A Certain Meeting of Minds
by SilverOsprey
Summary: A school project leaves Misaka Mikoto with more problems than she ever thought possible.
1. Projects and Partners

Disclaimer: I sold the proceeds to _Railgun_ and _Index_ and bought a rocket instead.

Author's Note: Hello everyone! It's been a long time, hasn't it? I really thought I wasn't going to write again, but I just got a most overpowering urge to put this down on paper, so I guess we'll all see how far I'll get. One thing about this story that I want to get out of the way right now: this is **most definitely AU.** I haven't read _Index_ or the novels, only seen the _Railgun_ anime, and skimmed parts of the manga. So, this is going to take place primarily in the _Railgun_ half of the Raildex universe, and I pretty much plan to run with what I've got. Furthermore, Shokuhou Misaki is probably going to be fairly out of character, but I hope that I am at least staying true to what I perceive as a fundamentally playful and yet secretive nature. So, yeah, if you have any questions feel free to PM me. And without further ado, I give you _A Certain Meeting of Minds._ Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!

Chapter 1: Projects and Partners

The classroom always seemed particularly stuffy during the first days of second term. The days were warm and lazy; even the girls at the prestigious Tokiwadai Girl's Academy were lethargic and flighty more often than not. The crickets droned on softly outside; Nakamura-sensei echoed their quiet tune as he outlined the homeroom work detail for class 2A. It was the same as last term; Mikoto shifted to more comfortably support her head against her palm and idly wondered why he even bothered. A sharp poke between her shoulder blades brought the classroom back into focus: Nanase Hitomi, student council president, and perhaps the only person in her class Mikoto could honestly consider "friend."

"With the start of second term, you will now begin the task to which you will dedicate the remainder of your time at Tokiwadai and which has the potential to direct your future careers: your research projects into esper abilities and applications and preparation for your comps. Your research and results, as well as the exams, influence where you go upon graduation. They will be reflected in what universities accept you, and what jobs you apply for. In effect," here Nakamura-sensei smiled wanly, "without sounding too trite, this is the beginning of the rest of your lives. And so, with careful deliberation, we have decided that this year the student research will be a joint project, held in conjunction with class 2E."

There was silence. Crickets chirped.

"Eeeeeehhhhhhhh?"

Mikoto sunk further into her chair, head thunking quietly against her desk. "_Deliberation"…huh. Somehow, it feels like I'm responsible for this…_

Class 2E filed in quietly. Their teacher was introduced as one Hoono-sensei, a pretty slip of a girl who barely looked any older than her students. She took a list from her pocket, but didn't open it, choosing instead to look out at the sea of unhappy faces before her.

"I know that this has probably come as an unpleasant shock to some of you, but rest assured that when we assigned partners, a full range of criteria were explored. Tokiwadai has done its best to ensure that not only are esper and computational abilities complementary, but that each of your backgrounds and personalities balance as well. I trust you will all attempt to get along with your partner, as there will be no switching, unless under extreme extenuating circumstances." A slight, gentle smile. "Give each other a chance, okay?"

A chorus of obedient "hai" left near 50 put upon voices, Mikoto tried to melt into her chair. If one of the criteria was esper level and type compatibility, this was most definitely her fault. These teachers had obviously attempted the impossible, and tried to find a suitable match for the Railgun. _Well, the only thing left to do is see if I can convince Nakamura-sensei to let me work on my own...it's not like work ever gets done when I'm in a group, anyway._ As the Ace of Tokiwadai, she had the status of an idol, and her mere presence tended to disrupt the normal flow of school activities.

Mikoto spent the next few minutes trying to come up with plausible reasons as to why she should be allowed to work on her own when the girl in front of her stood up. Anxiety and excitement began to bubble in her stomach: it was her turn next. The class seemed to quiet down around her; Mikoto threw a cursory glance at the remaining faces in 2E.

"Misaka Mikoto?"

_No. No way…!_

"Misaka-san?"

"H-hai!" Her chair clattered against the floor to a harmony of giggling even as blood flooded her cheeks.

"Thank you for your undivided attention," said Nakamura-sensei dryly.

Hoono-sensei continued where Nakamura left off: "Misaka-san, your partner from class 2E will be Shokuhou-san."

There was no dramatic pause. It was anticlimactic. The light above Mikoto short circuited.

"U-u-um. Could you repeat that?"

Hoono-sensei raised one eyebrow, but obliged. "I _said_ that your partner for the duration of this project is Shokuhou Misaki-san, from class 2E." She gestured at the girl in question, who, at least looked as shocked as Mikoto herself. The eyebrow rose even higher. "Is there something wrong with that?" And now annoyance was beginning to replace the shock on Shokuhou's face.

"Well, obviously!" came a voice from the back of the classroom. Chitose Yumi was a card-carrying member of the Queen's faction, and had made it her personal mission to harass Mikoto as much as possible while in class. "The great Railgun-sama can't have just any nobody as her partner. It simply _won't do_ for her image to be tarnished so!" Smug tittering came from the rest of the Queen's faction scattered throughout the room. Shokuhou's eybrow was beginning to twitch. Mikoto began to sweat. _These idiots don't even know who their dealing with!_

Hastily she interjected, "Ahahah! No, no problem at all! It's fine, perfectly fine! Ahahah!"

"Then," said Nakamura-sensei, in that tone of long-suffering patience that only a teacher of willful children could possess, "if we could please _continue?_ Take a seat, Shokuhou-san."

Of course, Chitose wasn't done. "You know, I almost feel sorry for the great Railgun-sama. Obviously, the only person she could be paired with is a complete imbecile if this school even hopes to maintain a veneer of fairness. Oh the _woes_ of being a Level 5!"

"Maa, maa. Settle down, everyone," said Nakamura-sensei, but even he had the hints of a smile about his lips.

Mikoto was grinding her teeth, but one look at Shokuhou's frighteningly polite smile and she was forgetting her own anger and shame in favor of fearing for her classmate's life. She grabbed Shokuhou by the elbow, and yanked her bodily down into a chair, hissing "don't you _dare!"_ and feeling the familiar static of threatening electricity at her fingertips.

The smile became more strained. "Are you _threatening me?_"

"We're in the middle of class!" Mikoto hissed right back. "I just don't want you doing anything stupid."

A glaring contest ensued. "Ohoho! Maybe I was wrong! A lover's spat, already?"

"Chitose!"

"Sorry, sensei."

_Well, at least now I know someone else who can do as good an impression of a tomato as me…_

**Who are you calling a tomato?**

_T-t-t-that was…that was…Sho…ku…? NO! I'm imagining things. I'm tired, it's hot. It's all in my head, all in my head…_

**Yes. Yes it is. In your head, that is.**

"WHAT THE HELL?"

"MISAKA!"

"Forgive me, sensei!"

Mikoto's bow was deep enough so that she hit her head on her desk, but she didn't hear the giggles around her for the soft laughter that resounded within her mind.

_Dammit! Get out of my head!_

**As you wish.** The laughter faded even as Mikoto snatched her hand back from the other girl's arm, and cradled it protectively to her body.

_What…_was_ that? I thought…I thought she said she couldn't get into my mind?_

* * *

Mikoto fled the classroom as soon as the session ended. She fled the school itself just as desperately once the day's classes were over, and didn't stop until she had reached the safety of the normal insanity that was the office of Judgment Branch 177. Saten and Uiharu were already there, and Kuroko simply took one look at her, and then co-opted her into assisting fulfilling the requests for the day. Finally, Mikoto was able to rest, and lose herself in the monotony of sweeping café fronts, and searching for lost pets.

It was only once they were all settled in a café themselves, and Mikoto with a large parfait in front of her courtesy of Uiharu, did Kuroko dare to broach the topic.

"Onee-sama," she began, hesitantly, "I've heard some…interesting rumors…today. About the joint research project…?"

Mikoto squirmed, still not certain if she wanted to talk, let alone how to go about doing so.

"It's alright if you don't want to talk about it," Saten-san interrupted, suddenly. "Or if you just want to talk to Shirai-san about it," she added, nodding at Kuroko. "But it's obvious something is troubling you. And we all want to help, if we can." She grinned brightly. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Mikoto sighed, but calmed, despite herself. _It's amazing how she can get what she wants from us, despite ourselves, and still be doing the right thing by us anyway. Sometimes I can't help but wonder if she's far more capable than any of us espers…_

"You know about the joint projects," she asked Uiharu and Saten-san first.

Uiharu nodded slowly. "Well, it's a very important project in your school where your partner is a person you'll have to work closely with for the next year and a half?"

"Basically," Kuroko agreed. "The project plays an important role in what high schools and universities we end up attending. Furthermore, usually, if done right, the person you're paired with becomes a life-long friend and associate."

"And if done wrong?" Uiharu whispered softly.

"Worst case scenario? They say some partners have actually killed or grievously injured each other. In normal circumstances, you would probably just ruin your chances at getting into one of the top-tier universities."

"Is that what's bothering you?" asked Saten curiously.

"What? No, of course not!" said Mikoto. "It's not like anyone could kill me, anyway."

"Then what, onee-sama! Tell your darling Kuroko! And I will fix everything for you!"

Mikoto, trying to stave off any histrionics, blurted out, "She's insane! Absolutely insane, and complaining about tomatoes and talking in my head and-"

"Talking in your head? A telepath? They partnered my onee-sama with a telepath? This could be worrisome…"

Uiharu was already taking out her laptop. "What's her name?" she asked as she pulled up the Judgment website.

"Uh, Shokuhou Misaki."

"Ah! Found her!"

"Oh really? Let us see…"

Kuroko began to read off: "Shokuhou Misaki. Class 2E. 15 years old. Born December 19, 1996. Blood type AB. Esper level 3, ability "Touch Scan." A touch-telepath. Oh, that's good. If she's just a touch-telepath, then you don't have to worry about her reading your mind. Just don't let her touch you." She turned to Mikoto. "But don't worry, onee-sama! We will protect you! And if she tries to put so much as a single finger on your precious body I will teleport it off! (And then you will see how I saved you, and be so thankful that you will want to give me your bod-)" No one could say they hadn't seen the electric shock coming.

Saten-san was still looking at the bio. "Although, it is a bit peculiar that she is 15 and yet only a second year in junior high." She turned to Mikoto, a determined expression on her face. "Don't worry; we'll get to the bottom of this. And," she reached for Mikoto's hand in a strangely tender movement, "remember that we will always be by your side, Misaka-san. You're not going to be alone, through any of this."

Uiharu nodded vigorously in agreement. "You've helped us so much, Misaka-san! You can count on me, I'll find out everything there is to know about Shokuhou-san. If she's dangerous, you'll know, and if she has any secrets you'll know that too!"

"Yes!" Kuroko said suddenly, jumping up from her prone position on the floor. "We will protect you, onee-sama! Come on, Saten-san! Uiharu-san! We've got work to do." And with that, she swept the other two out the café door.

Mikoto was left standing, staring bewilderedly at empty seats. "But I already know what's wrong with that bio..." she whispered mournfully. _Why is Tokiwadai's Queen pretending to be a Level 3 touch-telepath?_

There was the hesitant sound of a throat being cleared. "Miss? Your bill…"

"KUROKO!"

The café plunged into darkness, as the fuse box short circuited.


	2. Seminars and Secrets

Disclaimer: I sold the rocket and bought a boat.

Author's Note: I don't know where the hell this came from. All I know is that it's the product of the glories of procrastination. Well, I'm off to write the essay I was supposed to write. (Also, try and get through the middle section, I know it's a bit dry, but that's school, right?)

Chapter 2: Seminars and Secrets

Mikoto felt an eyebrow twitch. There were just too many things _wrong_ with this particular picture.

"Aah! Good _mor_-ning, Misaka-san!" Shokuhou sang out, grinning brightly at her.

The eyebrow twitched harder.

Mikoto recovered the art of speech in time to address the other's most glaring offence against common human courtesy and decency. "What are you _eating_?"

"Oh, this?" Shokuhou asked, holding up the large, doughy mass slathered in chocolate. "This is breakfast!" Another blinding grin.

"But…this is…we're in…and it's…it's covered in chocolate! Chocolate! For breakfast!"

"So?" Shokuhou took another large bite for emphasis. "See? All good!" She paused, looking thoughtfully at Mikoto. "Would you like some?" she asked, gesturing at the large paper bag on the desk beside her.

Mikoto just sighed, already feeling strangely exhausted. "You're insane, you know that, right?"

Shokuhou had the nerve to actually _giggle_. _Yeesh. It's waaaaay too early for this._

(When Hoono-sensei entered the classroom, she didn't even glance at the girl eating in the middle of the room. Apparently, this was the norm for class 2E.)

* * *

"First, I would like to introduce Dr. Sorensen, professor of Personametrics at Heidelberg University." There was a series of genuine, interested applause. The students of Tokiwadai knew to respect the names of the great institutions. "Dr. Sorensen came to Academy City while on sabbatical, and has honored us by his willingness to teach one of the special classes you will be taking this term."

The man in question, smiling, sketched a deep bow. "No, truly the pleasure is all mine. As a student of the nature and applications of personal realities, I have long heard about the glories of Academy City. To be allowed to teach its pride and joy…this is an honor beyond all compare."

Hoono-sensei smiled slightly at that, before continuing, "Dr. Sorensen will be your instructor for Esper Seminar II which is held in conjunction with Esper Seminar I. The latter is a series of lectures that will focus on ensuring that all of you have a strong foundation in the physical, chemical and biological sciences. I know that all of you have your own specialties, and you may not see the point of learning about fields outside your own area of interest. However, in joint projects, both partners are expected to carry their own weight. This seminar will ensure that you all have at least a strong foundation in whatever you should decide to research."

Dr. Sorensen then continued, "My class will be Esper Seminar II. This course is a synthesis. You will be expected to take what you learn in Seminar I and your knowledge of personal realities and integrate. You will learn not only why you are an esper and the theories behind the various esper abilities, but what it means _to be_ an esper."

Nakamura-sensei stepped forward next and followed up with: "The last addition to your curriculum is Challenge & Development. This is a class unlike any you have had before, and is, perhaps, the most important. It is meant to strengthen the bond between partners. You will work together in situations mundane and extreme; you will learn how to get along." He paused, a wistful smile crossing his features before he continued, "some of you may even learn to expand your personal realities."

"So," he continued, shaking out of whatever funk he had gotten into, "what does this mean for you as students of Tokiwadai? Effectively, class 2A and 2E will be doing everything in conjunction. Therefore, partners will be treated as a single unit in all academic activities. You know what," he finished brightly, a thoughtful expression on his face, "just consider yourselves married. It'll be easier in the long run."

"Phew!" Hoono-sensei mumbled, fanning herself with a hand. "That was a lot of exposition…"

The class just stared.

"Five minute break everybody!" And with that, the young woman swept out the door.

Shokuhou grabbed a new paper bag from the large purse at her side, opened it, and popped a cannoli into her mouth.

_I'm going to die. I'm seriously going to die. Being around this head case 24/7, never mind doing some ridiculous extracurricular activity with her, is going to kill me. I hate my life._

* * *

Mikoto was ranting. "A treasure hunt. Our first Challenges & Development is a _treasure hunt? _They're out of their minds!"

"And don't forget it's all over the Garden of Education, too!" said Shokuhou cheerfully, popping a cream puff into her mouth.

Mikoto whirled on her. "And you! How can you be so calm! They're sending us on a _treasure hunt_ in some desperate attempt to teach us how to play nice! And dammit, _stop eating!_"

"Mou. You really need to learn how to relax."

"Relax? How can anybody possibly relax in this situation! I'm wasting my time looking for a _flag_ when I could be doing at least 50 other, more constructive things -"

"Like what?"

It was as if Shokuhou had pulled a power cord. One moment there was energy. The next there was none.

"Really. What else would you be doing right now? Stand reading manga?" (Mikoto turned red.) "Buying that new Gekota doll down in the 7th district plaza?" (Mikoto became even redder.) Shokuhou stopped suddenly, and spun to face Mikoto, a serious expression on her face, and in her peculiar, unnerving eyes. "I understand that you might not want to have anything to do with me. The status quo was acceptable, before. I was content to work in the shadows, and you walked above the rabble. But that's in the past now and the situation before us cannot be changed. It would be best for you to accept it."

Mikoto looked at that serous expression in the strange eyes with the cross-shaped pupils and was suddenly more unnerved than she would ever admit. Mysterious, inhuman eyes that held too many secrets. Her expression was becoming shuttered.

Shokuhou must have noticed; she continued suddenly, with forced energy, "I'm calling a truce, you know! Come on," she said cheerfully, reaching out with one gloved hand to grab Mikoto's wrist, "I have an idea of where we should start first…"

Her fingers had barely closed around the delicate appendage before Mikoto wrenched it from her grasp, flinching away and hunching protectively over herself.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"I…see…so you saw my bio…" there was something wrong with Shokuhou's voice.

"Yes," Mikoto agreed, eyes bright and determined. "You're a touch telepath, aren't you?"

"Yes." There was no inflection in the other girl's voice.

"And you're really fifteen?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you a second year in-"

"You know, I really don't think that's any of your business."

Mikoto pressed onwards, anyway. "Why are you hiding? Pretending to be a Level 3? Do the professors even know who you are?"

"They do not."

"I don't like that; I should probably tell them-" Mikoto mumbled.

"You will do no such thing." Shokuhou's voice was hard.

Mikoto's head snapped up, her mind finally catching up with the conversation. Her voice was incredulous as she countered, "you think you can _stop me_?"

"I do not. But if you betray me, your friends will _die_. I guarantee it."

"You dare…!" Electricity was crackling.

"I do. I _will_ protect myself."

"Protect yourself from _what_?"

"That is none of your business, either."

"None of my…! You've just threatened my friends' lives! To my _face_!"

"I cannot wipe your memory."

"Hell no!"

"Then mind your own business and don't get in my way; your precious nakama will remain safe."

"And you expect me to just trust you?" Mikoto threw her hands up in emphasis. She was panting heavily, but at least she wasn't sparking any more.

There was a pause. Shokuhou slowly turned her back to Mikoto, eyes looking out and up, towards the regal peaks of school buildings and beyond that, towards the sky. Her voice was soft, as she answered. "I expect no such thing." When she turned back to face the electromaster, a facsimile smile was plastered on her face.

"Those are simply the rules of the game. Believe me or not, as you will. I will live by them." Her cheer was incongruous; Mikoto was felt the beginnings of disgust roil in her belly. "Here. Why don't you go on and get that Gekota, or something? I know where the flag is."

She spun around once, before waving lazily and walking away. Mikoto couldn't quite help the last parting jab. "How'd you know where it was? Read it from sensei's mind?"

The other girl paused a beat in her step, before continuing on as if there had been no interruption at all. "No. I _observe._" And then she was gone with a soft rustle of skirt pleats, and the sudden chill of a freak autumnal wind.

Mikoto shivered.

* * *

DL: Thank you so much for your very kind review! This new chapter is really all due to you! I'm glad someone else is interested in Mikoto/Misaki interaction. I really hope the Level 5s will be able to interact more in the upcoming chapters, too!


	3. Thyme and Trust

Disclaimer: I sold the boat and bought a horse.

Authors's Note: Well, here's chapter three! I'm a bit nervous about this one, I've gone a bit into Misaki's powers here, and I don't want to give her a ridiculous power up, but her powers are so undefined that it's really hard not to. I'm hoping that for someone who is essentially a walking MRI, extending that scanning ability to the surroundings itself isn't too far-fetched. **If you have any constructive comments or adivce, please review or PM me!**

**Reader**: I think I'm aware of everything canon about Misaki. I definitely know about the problem with the electromagnetic shielding, hopefully, I explain my way around that well enough here. But it is actually pretty easy to get around that shield even in canon. Mikoto is obviously not blocking against UV-visual light; a remote that could transmit Misaki's powers in that frequency range should therefore not be blocked (Although, in that case it would come down to a "who-is-faster" scenario, Mikoto at blocking in the new range or Misaki manipulating Mikoto's mind to prevent her from doing so.)

Enjoy everyone!

Chapter 3: Thyme and Trust

She had already destroyed twelve light fixtures, seven vending machines, and four computer terminals. It had only been three days. Three days since _the incident_. Three days of receiving the cold shoulder from a person she did not have the luxury of ignoring. Three days where she had slowly watched her own sanity fray. Three days of snapping at friends and acquaintances alike; three days of when stand reading manga still could not help her quell her rising fury.

"Misaka-san. You can stop chopping the thyme now."

"Mutilating it, you mean," came Chitose's voice from a few aisles over.

Quiet snickering followed this comment, but Mikoto was already too generally angry to get embarrassed. A low growl escaped her before she could control herself, and the lights in the classroom flickered dangerously for a moment.

Hurriedly, Takei-sensei interrupted before things could escalate. "Everyone, back to work! I want to see perfectly crafted omelets by the end of the period."

"Hai!"

Once the students had settled down, Sensei turned towards Mikoto and Shokuhou. "Shokuhou-san. Why have you not tried to help your partner?" She looked down at Shokuhou's neatly chopped row of thyme. "You obviously could have been of some assistance. If this continues, I am afraid that I will have to give you both a failing grade for the assignment. You are supposed to _support_ one another."

Shokuhou bowed her head, mumbling a quiet apology. Mikoto, on the other hand, grimaced in annoyance.

"I don't need her help!"

The blonde's face became stony, while Takei-sensei just sighed.

"Really?" she said, gesturing at the unfortunate garnish on the cutting board before her. "Did the thyme offend you in some way, then?" When Mikoto did not reply, Sensei continued more firmly, "Alright. You two are done for the day."

"Wha-?"

"There is no need-!"

"Sort out your problems. It's obvious that there's something wrong. Nakamura-sensei and Hoono-sensei have noticed it, too. Then, come back, and I'll let you make up the session."

"But really," said Shokuhou calmly, as she stealthily snuck her hand into the large purse at her hip. "There is nothing wrong. This is a normal interaction for Misaka-san and me."

Mikoto knew, almost instinctively, what the other girl was about to do. With a sudden, desperate movement, she grabbed the purse and pulled it behind Shokuhou's body, careful to not touch the other girl herself.

"I don't know what your regular interactions are like, but this is most definitely _not_ normal behavior. Let's go. We need to talk." With that, Mikoto was dragging the other girl out of the room.

"What do you think you're doing? Let go of me this instant!" A sudden, agonizing pain shot through Mikoto's head, as a pressure seemed to swell up around her, trying to crush her cranium. She stumbled forward suddenly, but only ended up yanking Shokuhou awkwardly.

"I thought," she slurred woozily, "we agreed that particular power of yours doesn't work on me. And don't you dare touch me," she hissed suddenly, catching sight of the other girl's outstretched hand.

Shokuhou couldn't recoil; Mikoto was pulling her too strongly. But that did not prevent her from settling her arms protectively across her chest. Then she wordlessly wrenched her bag from the other girl's fingers and stalked out of the room.

Mikoto watched her go, annoyed and bewildered, before running after the other girl. _Dammit! What's she so huffy about? She's the one who just attacked me! Maybe I should start looking into mental institutions – they've got have a lot of experience with mad Level 5s._

* * *

She found Shokuhou on the roof, looking out at the sky. Mikoto was still frustrated, still angry, but she was more tired than anything else.

"What was that for?" she asked, rubbing at her temples in an attempt to stave off the pain from the other girl's mental attack.

"Reflex."

"Reflex," Mikoto deadpanned. She could feel a migraine coming on.

The other girl was already beginning to walk back toward the staircase. "Yes. Do you not accidentally discharge large amounts of electricity when under emotional stress?"

Mikoto was moving with her, "Stress? You're stressed? Dammit, I'm the one who's under a lot of stress right now-"

"And it's my fault, yes? Well then, my apologies for disrupting the precious calm of your little life, Misaka-_sama._" Giving a deep, mocking bow.

"Why you…"

"I assure you, you need have no fear on my account. As has already been established, this," she pulled a small remote from her purse, "has no effect on you. In fact, my powers have no effect on you unless I am in direct contact with you."

"You really think I can just take your word for it? You're a manipulative liar who I _just watched_ try to control a _sensei's _mind!"

"I know you won't trust me!" Shokuhou's voice was hoarse, nearly a scream. "But…it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter."

A charged, static-filled silence.

"Look," she said suddenly, pulling at the white cloth of her gloves, "these gloves are made of a very special material that inhibits a most fundamental aspect of my powers: it limits the sensory input and output capabilities I require when using my ability."

She paused, to see Mikoto looking curiously at her. Speaking more quietly, she continued, "My neural net possesses an extrasensory quality which operates on a similar principle to your electromagnetic field. It provides me with a constant influx of sensory information necessary for the effective use of Mental Out. Through touch, I can sense far more than just heat, or pain, or texture; I sense _everything_. "

Catching sight of Mikoto's skeptical expression, she bent down and, taking off one glove, placed her bare hand on the roof tiles. Closing her eyes, she began rattling off: "The roofing of this building is made of a mixture of bitumen-soaked paper with an asphalt coating. There are bits and pieces of ceramic, as well. Ratio of 95% to 5%. There are two cracks in the main infrastructure of this building; the larger was recently filled in with cement. The water main's third branch from the city line is corroding, about 12% corrosion three-quarters of the way from the branch-off…and there's a rat. The band practicing in the third floor music room has five people in the room: four auditors, one playing. The second shortest girl sitting is breathing heavily, she's most likely recovering from a recent bronchial infection."

Mikoto's mouth was hanging wide open, something like the beginnings of fear clouding her eyes.

Shokuhou wordlessly pulled on her glove, before continuing, "Obviously, that much sensory input all the time is enough to make anyone go mad. The gloves act as an inhibitor and prevent most of the neural signals from generating an action potential strong enough that it can reach my brain, therefore I receive only a minimal amount of information. They also slow down the signaling between my hands and another person's neural network, so that there is a sixty second delay between contact and sensory input or output."

"You mean, you don't always just invade other people's minds?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't want to. Furthermore, even if I did accidentally touch you, it normally would not be long enough for me to enter or influence your mind. Only prolonged contact, like that day when we were first named partners, would enable me to establish a link. So, you see," she said, tiredly turning away, "you are perfectly safe from me."

Mikoto let her go.

* * *

"Misaka-san, you need to stop pouting."

"I am not pouting! She's just so…so…infuriating!"

"Infuriating."

"Yes! I mean, at first she's sort of nice, if annoying, but then she gets all snappish, and threatening, and then she starts acting like _she's _the victim in all this!"

"How rude of her."

"Yes! Exactly! I wish she'd just pick an emotion and stick with it! I have no idea what's going on anymore! God, is she bipolar or something?"

"Uhh, Misaka-san, why don't you sit down…everyone is staring at us…"

Blushing, Mikoto sat down, taking a large gulp of her smoothie for good measure.

"It's just," she continued, more quietly, "I don't know what to do or how to feel anymore. And it can't go on like this, it just can't."

"On like how?"

"Well, stifling. I feel like I'm suffocating, working with her all the time, but always on edge around her."

"Because you're afraid she'll read your mind?"

"Actually, no. It's just, so tense. All the time."

"And why do you think that is?"

"Well, we've had…some words…"

"…Some words."

"Well, yeah."

"Tell me about it?"

And Mikoto did. Hesitatingly at first, stumbling in parts. But slowly, a story began to form before them.

"What do I _do, _Saten-san?" Mikoto finished softly, thinking of harsh words swift upon the heels of an unheard call for truce. "I've been unfair. Haven't I."

"Mmm, yeah. I would say so." Saten stretched, and then took a long swig of her own drink.

"Aren't you supposed to reassure me, or something?" Mikoto asked dryly.

"No. Friends tell friends when they're being stupid." She turned to look at Mikoto seriously. "Misaka-san. You are a moron."

"Eeeeh? What? You can't just-" Mikoto spluttered.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you just basing your treatment of Shokuhou-san on what you've _heard_ about her? Fears held by other people? It was Shirai-san who was worried that Shokuhou-san might try to steal your secrets, remember? (Not that I know why any of your secrets are worth stealing…I mean, your fondness for Gekota is common knowledge…)"

"S-Saten-san!"

"Misaka-san. Has Shokuhou-san ever given you any indication that she is untrustworthy? Or that she wants to harm you in any way?"

"But she threatened you all!"

"And you threatened her first."

"But, that's ridiculous! This is Academy City!"

"Child errors."

"But she's a Level 5!"

A pause.

"WHAT?"

"Oh no, oh no, um, you didn't just hear that, I mean, that's ridiculous, right? Ahahah!"

"She's really a level 5? But her bio said she was Level 3. Wait. Does that mean she's actually Tokiwadai's Que-mmph!"

Mikoto lunged, covering Saten's mouth with her hand, looking around wildly. "Shh! Someone could hear you! You're not allowed to tell anyone. Period. Got it?"

Saten stared into serious eyes, and nodded slowly, sinking back into her chair.

"Hmmm…why would a level 5 be parading around as a level 3…"

"That's what I want to know!"

"Well," Saten said thoughtfully, "regardless, it probably proves that whatever she's afraid of is real. And if it can scare a level 5…" she shivered eloquently.

Mikoto hummed in agreement, and silence settled around the table like a thick blanket.

"Well, no matter." Saten began again. "What she may or may not be hiding has no bearing on how you should view her. The girl you've interacted with, the girl you know; is she the kind of person who you should abandon?"

"Abandon?"

"Well, that's what you've done, isn't it? You didn't honor the agreement of the partnership: to attempt to forge a working relationship with each other. Instead, you've isolated her. You've shown her that you will neither trust her nor accept her trust. And so she ignores you, and does not treat you as a partner. How else could she act, when you denied her your trust? Friendships, like all other relationships, are built upon trust, you know."

"But, how do you trust someone who can look into your very soul?"

Saten peered thoughtfully into her glass. "I don't know, Misaka-san. But you'll never learn the answer to that question unless you try. But really, I don't think her powers are the issue here."

Mikoto looked at Saten inquisitively, and the other girl continued: "Knowing what you do, about Shokuhou-san, and about your own feelings; are you willing to take a leap of faith, and believe in her?"

"Believe…in her…"

"Yes, Misaka-san. Believe in her. The way I believe that when you're backed up against a wall, you'll do what is right." She paused. "The way I believe that you won't electrocute me every time I take your hand."

Mikoto's eyes were wide.

"Can you do that, Misaka-san?"

* * *

Monday. A tiring day, like it always was. And there was Shokuhou, sitting in her chair next to Mikoto's desk, staring listlessly into space, as had been her norm these past few days. She didn't look at Mikoto as the other came over to her seat; she didn't greet her either.

Mikoto swallowed. "G-good morning, Shokuhou-san."

Surprise flitted across the other girl's face, before it was swallowed by impassivity. She nodded politely in return. "Good morning, Misaka-san."

Shokuhou then turned away, and began fiddling quietly with the books in her lap.

That was the last straw.

Placing her own book-bag down, Mikoto strode purposefully around the desk until she loomed over the blonde girl. The other girl looked up, eyes and face a blank mask, opened her mouth…

…Which clacked shut when Mikoto grabbed two gloved hands firmly in her own.

Shokuhou's eyes were _huge_.

Mikoto giggled slightly, and there was something hesitant but warm in her eyes.

_I'm sorry, Shokuhou-san._

A clatter.

_Well, at least she finally lost some of that damn poise…but I never thought she'd faint._

But as Mikoto steadied the other girl in her seat, she couldn't help the large grin that spread across her face at the hesitant wonder and joy she could feel at the edges of her mind, and the warm hand clasped tightly in her own.


	4. Cooking and Crimes

Disclaimer: I sold the horse and bought Gilligan's Island.

Author's Note: Hey all! I'm back and (hopefully) better than ever! I hope that this chapter doesn't turn anyone off, but I figure that with all the torture and conspiracy rampant in the Raildex universe, this wouldn't be too farfetched. And well, this is an adventure story. Also, if things go according to plan (AKA: "If my muse is cooperative") things should start heating up in the next chapter! Enjoy!

To all who reviewed/favorited/alerted: Thank you very much for your interest in this story! I hope I continue to deliver! (And **Fanking2**: We'll see about Touma. I'm not certain if I know his character well enough to write him, but seeing as this is Touma we're talking about, he's almost guaranteed to be up to his eyeballs in this mess – and run into Mikoto when the sh*t hits the fan.)

Chapter 4: Cooking and Crimes

Once initiated, their reconciliation happened far faster than Mikoto had ever dared to hope. She and Shokuhou had gone from outright antagonism to a tentative, yet genuine, friendship with dizzying speed. Much to Mikoto's consternation, they really were complementary; as the sensei had informed the class that they would be. Mikoto's easy-going nature could easily tolerate Shokuhou's whimsical and mischievous personality; furthermore, although Mikoto was undeniably quick to anger, she was evenly matched by Shokuhou's surprisingly calm and analytical mind, which the blonde maintained even under the most stressful conditions.

They had defined only one set of rules, which delineated the boundaries of their friendship. For Shokuhou, it was that Mikoto was never, under any circumstances, to pry into the other girl's secrets. Shokuhou's secrets were her own, and were not to be drawn into the open air between them. For Mikoto, Shokuhou was never to use her powers in a capacity other than what the school had defined them as. Mental Out had been reduced to Touch Scan, with all of Touch Scan's associated limitations. Secondly, if there was to be any physical contact between Shokuhou and Mikoto, Mikoto was to be the one to initiate it. That was the ironclad rule Shokuhou could never get around.

It wasn't perfect, and both girls knew it. But it was a start, and that was enough.

* * *

"Why are we always preparing western foods?"

"To test the full scope of our cooking abilities? Or maybe Takei-sensei is simply a practitioner of _Schadenfreude._ Anyway, those carrots need to be chopped into circles, not wedges, Misaka-san."

"Oh." She switched the carrots length-wise. "But think about it. To attend Tokiwadai, we all have to be ludicrously wealthy. So it's not like we'll ever have to make chicken Parmesan ourselves, even if it was a meal we'd eat with any frequency, anyway."

"Chicken Parmesan is actually rather nice. You need to branch out more, Misaka-san."

"Well, I'm sorry that I prefer more traditional fare."

"Also, you do realize that tradition has it that men generally prefer a woman who can cook for them? Oh, here. Put those carrots in this bowl. We'll use them later. Now chop these tomatoes into wedges."

"T-t-t-that may be true, but we're still junior high students! We shouldn't be worrying about men right now!"

A sly smile. "But from what I hear, that hasn't stopped you, now has it?"

"Sh-shut up!"

"But I'm _curious_. Who is this mysterious baka-san you chase at the smallest provocation? What was his name agai-"

"That's none of your business!" Mikoto had, by now, bypassed the red of the tomato she was cutting, and was doing a suitable impression of a traffic light.

"Alright, alright," Shokuhou mumbled through her laughter.

"…You did that on purpose, didn't you."

The other girl simply hummed in reply, setting a large saucepan onto the stovetop and then pouring in smooth tomato sauce. "Once you're done with the tomatoes, add half to this pan and put the other half in the bowl with the carrots. Then, start chopping half of this red onion. I'm going to start breading the chicken."

"With raw egg yolk?"

"And breadcrumbs."

"That sounds disgusting."

"Hmph. Don't judge it 'til you've tried it."

There were a few minutes of companionable silence until Mikoto broke it with: "I still don't understand how you know what you're doing. Why are you such a good cook?"

"There are directions."

"But they don't have half the stuff you have me doing. And I'm going to add the tomatoes now."

"Make sure the heat's on low. We don't want anything to splatter."

"Done."

"Good. Now add the garlic and parsley I set aside, as well as the cup with the herbs in it. You're going to have to keep an eye on the sauce, and stir it if it looks to be too congealed."

"While chopping the onion?"

"Too hard for you?"

"No way!" Mikoto grabbed the onion and got to work. A few moments later, and she understood exactly why Shokuhou had given her the job of onion-chopping. "Dammit-"

"I wouldn't wipe your eyes with your hand."

"You knew this would happen, didn't you."

"Well, it is an onion."

"I hate you."

Gentle laughter, then: "You'll be alright. It's practically a rite of passage for any student of the kitchen."

Mikoto looked through tearing eyes at the blonde telepath, and felt curiosity begin to rear its many- headed form. "You sound as if you've been cooking for most of your life," she started hesitantly.

Maybe it was pity, but Shokuhou finally answered the unspoken question. "I have."

"But you're the most ojou-like ojou I know!"

"Really."

"Well, okay, maybe not; especially as I've gotten to know you better; but you still give off that vibe, and it's obvious your outrageously wealthy. I mean, you abuse that Prada bag of yours as if it were just any old bag from an outlet mall."

"My family may be wealthy, but that does not mean that I grew up in the lap of luxury. If you're done with the onion, put 2/3 into the saucepan, and the rest into the vegetable bowl. And keep stirring! We don't want anything to burn!"

A few minutes of frantic shuffling ensued before Shokuhou could continue. "The Shokuhou are very important people in the business world, with a lot of political clout, as well."

"That's right! The Shokuhou Group is a major investment firm, with large shares in all the top tier bio- and nanotechnology research groups, including those places like Academy City."

"Yes." Shokuhou began poking at the breaded chicken sizzling nicely in another pan. "And having a child around who can read a person's mind, and thus come to know a company's most dangerous secrets, is bad business. My parents sent me to Academy City almost as soon as they realized what I could do. That was nine years ago. I haven't seen them at anything outside of social functions since."

"You were…sent here?" Mikoto whispered softly, shocked. There was only one place in Academy City equipped for handling truly young children.

Shokuhou must have sensed Mikoto's shock, because she wordlessly removed the cutting knife from limp fingers, before setting a large head of lettuce down in front of Mikoto. "I learned how to cook for the other Child Errors while living in the facility. Now, I want you to shred this head of lettuce. Then, you'll toss it and the rest of the vegetables. And we'll add these cucumbers," summoning a small bowl of sliced cucumbers into existence.

Mikoto seized the diversion with relief. She stared at the lettuce incredulously. "What…is this?"

"Oh, it's for the salad." Brightly.

"What…salad? Takei-sensei never said anything about making a salad."

"The salad I wanted with my lunch."

"SHO-KU-HOU!"

* * *

"Busy?" Mikoto asked, breezing into the 177th Judgment Branch office.

Kuroko shot her a baleful glare and opened her mouth.

"Ah! Misaka-san! It's good to see you," exclaimed Uiharu, attempting to stop the imminent avalanche.

"Misaka-san has had some personal matters to attend to, haven't you, Misaka-san," said Saten archly.

Surprizingly, Kuroko did not explode. Instead, she seemed to wither instead under some awful weight. "Don't remind me," she moaned. "That wretched Shokuhou girl is stealing my beloved onee-sama away from me!"

Paying no attention to the smoldering girl on the floor, Saten continued knowingly, "So you've managed to get along with Shokuhou-san, after all?"

Mikoto mumbled an embarrassed response in the affirmative, but it was Kuroko who cut in next, sounding unusually serious.

"Just be careful, onee-sama. Uiharu and I did a fairly thorough background check, and there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's as if she spontaneously came into existence a year ago, when she transferred into Tokiwadai. Before that, there's nothing."

"What," breathed Mikoto, bewildered. "But she said that she has been living in Academy City since she was six years old."

"Living…here?" Kuroko looked as shocked as Mikoto felt. "Where? Where!" she demanded excitedly.

"Um, a Child Error Facility? She said that she was sent to one as soon as she began to manifest her powers."

"Uiharu!" Kuroko gestured excitedly at her chair, signaling that the flower-decked girl should sit down. "Do you know which one?"

"No…"

"Well, no matter. It shouldn't be that hard to find a Child Error Facility fully equipped to handle a Level 3 telepath."

Mikoto grimaced. _And it would be even easier if I could tell you that she's actually a Level 5…_

"Umm, I think I'm missing something here, but I thought Child Error Facilities were only for Level 0s?" Saten asked carefully, more than half embarrassed.

"That's actually just a common misconception," Kuroko replied, slipping into lecture mode. "A Child Error can be any level esper. A Child Error is really just any child who has been abandoned by his or her parents and made a dependent of Academy City. Child Error Facilities are really just glorified orphanages. So you see," she finished, switching back to the topic at hand, "because it concerns a ward of the state, there will always be some documentation on Child Errors. We just have to dig harder!"

"Which you can do _later_, in your free time," came a harsh voice from the door. "Or have you forgotten the case we've been working on?"

Kuroko flinched, while Uiharu's face drained of color. "Oh!" Mikoto said, standing up and bowing hurriedly. "Good afternoon, Konori-san!"

The older woman's face softened, and she smiled tiredly. Wordlessly, Uiharu got up and began to make some tea as pleasantries were exchanged.

Once they were all settled in with a warm cup in hand, Kuroko started quietly, "Anything new?"

"No," Konori replied. "It's the same as before."

"Oh." Uiharu whispered, sinking into her chair. "That's horrible."

Mikoto looked at the three long faces confusedly, and then over at Saten, who was worrying her lip nervously. "What, what's going on?"

She nearly flinched when four stares of varying incredulity were turned on her. But the tense moment quickly passed, and a wry smile flitted across Konori's face.

"That's right. You don't watch the news very often; do you, Misaka-san?"

"Well, I-" Mikoto began, flustered.

"It's alright." Laughingly. More soberly, Konori continued, "There have been a series of crimes in the 8th district, which have just recently passed over into the 7th. We've been coordinating with the 178th in an attempt to get a handle on it."

"What kind of crimes," Mikoto asked, beginning to get more worried still.

A pause, then: "Attacks. There have been 6 attacks in the past 8 weeks. 4 in the 8th district, 2 here. We think there's only one perpetrator, because they're all committed in the same style, against the same target: young girls of 12-14 years of age."

Mikoto felt a chill. "What happened to them."

Konori's eyes closed, and here voice came out as carefully expressionless. "There are never any signs of a struggle. And they've all been…raped. Our only clue is that they all appear to have a blank in their memory of several hours duration. We find them in back allies. They're always dressed, except for the fact that they are missing their panties."

Mikoto felt sick. There was no anger, no sparking electricity. Just bile rising in her throat.

"This has been going on for…months?"

Konori's head jerked once.

"Have you…informed…?"

"Not all the details, but yes. A warning has been issued to the general public. Girls in the 12-14 age range have been advised to walk around in large groups and not be out too late at night," Kuroko continued in Konori's stead.

"I…see." She felt impotent; weak and powerless before the monster named inertia.

Something must have shown on her face because Kuroko smiled weakly at her, before gently taking Mikoto's hand in her own. "I know," Kuroko whispered, softly. "I _know._"

There was too much sympathy in her friends' eyes. Mikoto stood up swiftly, and turned to look out the window, back to her friends. "I'm going to…walk you all home, do you understand. Until this is over. I won't let you be hurt." Whirling suddenly, to stare hard at Kuroko. "I won't ask to help in this investigation. But let me protect you."

"Onee-sama…"

"_Kuroko_."

The auburn-haired girl gave a defeated smile. "Very well. But you have to be careful too, do you hear me? I'd never forgive myself if you…"

"I don't think you need to worry about that, Shirai-san," Saten interrupted. "Between the four of us," smiling fondly at Uiharu, before turning more serious eyes on Mikoto and Kuroko, "not much can hurt us. Not with our genius hacker, Level 4 teleporter, and the Railgun herself!"

Mikoto couldn't help the wry smile as she added: "Don't forget the Level 0 who always knows exactly what to say and never loses her cool in a bad situation…"

It was nice to see Saten blush for a change.

It was only much later, once Mikoto had made sure all her friends had gotten home without incident, and Kuroko was safely asleep, did she allow her mind to wander. _Why is this happening? Who could possibly…_but that question wasn't very hard to answer. _Maybe that baka will know something…_By the time she finally drifted into a fitful sleep, Mikoto only knew one thing with certainty: _I have to keep them safe. I _have _to._


	5. Distraction and Demons

Disclaimer: I sold Gilligan's Island and bought the complete set of the Encyclopedia Brittanica.

Author's Note: Wow! It's been a while everyone! I'm sorry that this update is so late, but real life decided to slam me over the head with an anvil, and I've only just now managed to have things wind down enough that I'll probably be able to write with some frequency, even if I won't be able to update close to once a week any more.

To all who reviewed: Thank you for your lovely reviews! It's always interesting to hear what you think, and **Vanitas1776**, I'm, really glad you mentioned you thought the story was moving too quickly, because I don't want to go too fast, but then I don't to go to slow and then lose interest, and so stop writing. I'm hoping that (especially with this chapter) I'll be able to show that they're not "best buddies." They've got a working relationship, and a tentative friendship, but they DEFINITELY still have their issues to work out. At this point, I hope I'm being interesting without waffling. **ClockworkBabbage:** Glad you're enjoying the story after all! Thanks for giving this another try. Hopefully you won't be disappointed with this chapter. And Misaki, well, I guess at this point I like my version of her too much to willingly change her to become canon-like. She's complicated, and, well, I don't plan on making her too nice, if I can help it. I have to admit; I'm looking forward to writing her more, because in my head, she's so much _fun _(because of her, I can screw around with everyone else!)! So I hope you have fun reading, at least!

Chapter 5: Distraction and Demons

"…saka-san. Misaka-san. Misaka-san!"

"Huh? Uh…Shokuhou-san?" Mikoto slowly came out of her daze, to find herself on the school roof, with no memory of ever getting up there. The beginnings of a frown made themselves apparent on her face; Shokuhou had her hands on the electromaster's forearms, as if she had been shaking the other girl rather hard. _She's touching me…I thought we agreed…not good…_

Shokuhou recoiled with all the speed of one who had been burned, before folding her hands neatly in her lap.

"You're distracted." It was a statement.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Mikoto rejoined, although she could feel a tell-tale blush flooding her cheeks.

Shokuhou looked at her pityingly. "You got hit in the _face_ by a soccer ball, because you were zoning out in the middle of the field."

"Um, that was-"

"You didn't hear me as I called your name and shook you for the past 2 minutes. You did not remember that we had a quiz in seminar this morning. You nearly chopped off your finger in home-ec! And that's just today. I was hoping that you'd be able to resolve whatever issues you've got on your own, but this has been going on for over a week now. So, what is going on?" It was more of a command than a question.

Mikoto bristled, disliking Shokuhou's tone. "It's none of your business!"

At the other's rather rude tone, Shokuhou did her best to plaster a polite smile onto her face and not grind her teeth. "I understand that I am not your first choice of confidant, but you need to talk to someone. This…obtuseness…simply cannot go on."

The two girls stared at each other for a long moment, the air charged and heavy about them. It was Mikoto who relaxed first, breathing out all her tension with a heaving exhale. She began to scuff her shoe across the asphalt, before starting: "have you been paying any attention to the news lately?"

The other girl's expression spoke volumes as to the perceived stupidity of the question. "Of course I have. I prefer to stay informed."

Mikoto didn't respond to the thinly veiled jibe. Instead a troubled expression crossed her face as she whispered, "then, you know about the…attacks, don't you?"

"Misaka-san…" Shokuhou's voice was strangely gentle.

"It's just disgusting and horrible, and they're little _girls_ some even younger than us, and I can't _do_ anything. I'm the third strongest level 5 in Academy City, and I can't find this monster, or protect people. I can barely even protect my friends, and they're searching for this bastard every night!"

"I understand how you feel, Misaka-san," Shokuhou said carefully, weighing every word. "But there is only so much you can do."

Somehow, this was not what Mikoto had expected to hear. "So I should just sit back and do nothing?"

"That's _not_ what I said!"

"Well, it sure sounded that way to me!"

Shokuhou's eyebrow was twitching. "Look. You can't save everyone. Not in the real world and especially not here in Academy City."

"That doesn't mean I can't try!"

"Argh! Why won't you listen to logic for once in your life? If Judgment is having difficulty finding this man, how are you ever going to find him?" Trying to be reasonable.

"Doesn't matter. It's easy to hack into the academy mainframe. If I just watch all the cameras…or if I figure out what this bastard's ability is, then I can find him and fry him, no problem."

"Just like that? Are you out of your mind? Never mind the fact that the people at Judgment and Anti-skill have probably already thought of that; you shouldn't just go barging into a delicate situation without knowing all the facts-"

"WHO CARES ABOUT THE FACTS! People are suffering! My friends are suffering! And I know I can do-"

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU DAMMIT!" It was a bellow. Chest heaving, face suffusing with an angry flush, lips curling into a snarl, and Mikoto was suddenly feeling like the rather unfortunate individual who pokes a log only to find it a crocodile. There was a sudden heaviness in the air, but then it was gone, leaving Mikoto feeling dizzy and disoriented. Shokuhou continued, "You're better off leaving well enough alone."

"Alone…?"

"Yes." The blonde's voice was cold. "You don't think this was some unpredictable event, do you? This is _Academy City._" A short, strangled laugh. "I bet some scientist designed this mess as some sort of _experiment_."

Mikoto choked slightly. "Experiment? You can't possibly…"

"Did you forget? This place is built upon the concept of human experimentation. Child experimentation. And those who get involved are likely to disappear." Her smile was bitter. "You should just mind your own business and pray you don't get sucked up into this mess."

"Do you…just not care?" Mikoto's voice was too quiet and too calm.

"Not the issue. I know better than to go sticking my neck out over a situation that will resolve itself eventually. And you should too."

Mikoto was quiet for a moment, and then her voice came out softly, wonderingly. "You really do just…think only about yourself, don't you? Is that how you justify it all? The mind control, the secrets, the lies? All for the sake of _anonymity_?" She was suddenly feeling desperately ill, disappointment clouding her normally clear gaze. "You're right in that this isn't about me. But it's not about you, either."

They were quiet words, laced with profound sorrow, and their echo would sound in Shokuhou's ears long after Mikoto had left the golden-eyed girl alone on the rooftop.

* * *

She was hunting. A sleek and powerful beast stalking its territory for her prey.

They had been lucky this time. A child hadn't returned home from school at the expected time. A young girl. Thirteen. She had disappeared near the border between 7th and 8th districts.

But it would be okay. They had a location now. It would be okay.

* * *

The problem with level 5s is that when they lose it, everybody else knows about it. Wanton destruction and mayhem increases tenfold. People's lives are generally inconvenienced, and it is the average Academy City-dweller who suffers most. As if in an attempt to injure the average man's pride even more, the level 5 will almost never realize the extent of the mess they are precipitating.

Shokuhou Misaki was on the warpath.

So of course she was wandering down a street in the 7th district in the direction of the main plaza.

This translated into all the people about her collapsing indiscriminately.

If scientists had been there to observe it, or if there was an outsider to observe the phenomenon, they would have found it a fascinating puzzle. As it was, Misaki was too far gone to appreciate the effect her uncontrolled self-righteous anger was having on the general populous. If she could, she would have noticed a heaviness in the air, as if the entire continent had just been sunk to the ocean floor; people sinking (twitching) under the pressure of a mental strength strong enough to tint the very air a red-gold. She was a Moses parting the Israelites, for the passage of the sea (Irony is a staple in the diet of a telepath).

As it was, Misaki was just _pissed._

**Who the **hell** does she think she is? She's an idiot. An idealistic idiot who doesn't understand the meaning of the concept "self-preservation."** (A chorus of moans as her ire reached a fever-pitch). **Does she think she's some sort of savior for the weak of Academy City? Ha. Someone's let the advertising and praise go to her head. Maybe she'll don tights and a cape next.**

A cleaner-bot began to crumple under an invisible weight. A few passerby began undulating on the pavement. **And who is she to judge what I do or don't do? Or that I recommend she **think? **She's the moron who managed to get mixed up in that Level 6 Experiment. And wasn't it her meddling that blew the whole AIM mess way out of proportion? She should know better than to go sticking her neck out too far.**

…**But isn't that what she did for me?** Came the traitorous voice from the deep pit somewhere in the recesses of her mind.

For a single endless moment, agony had her heart in a strangle hold, as the image of disappointed eyes swam before her vision.

A single pulse, a rippling shock wave, exploded into the surroundings, ripping through trees and crushing lampposts. An elderly man, one of the many uninvolved pedestrians, collapsed and began twitching wildly on the ground.

This one instance of cardiac arrest had an unusual effect.

Other civilians began straining on the ground, struggling to get up in order to help the man dying before their eyes, or at least call for an emergency response team.

Somehow, Misaki felt the shift in his heart pattern, and slowly came back to herself. Dazedly, she tugged her AIM field deep within herself, throwing imaginary chains over its shadowy beast-like form that existed within her mind. Almost instantaneously, the pressure let up.

Ignoring the people moaning or glaring, or retreating, or trying to get between her and the injured man, she made her way to the man seizing on the ground. Tugging off her glove, she demanded coldly "Let me work."

Bare fingers delicately lay on a silken shirt, and then Misaki slowly began coaxing the heart beneath her fingertips into the proper pattern, opening and closing potassium and sodium ion channels, resetting pacemaker glia and regulating axon potentials sent down sympathetic nerves. Slowly, the man relaxed, and Misaki rocked back onto her heels, and broadened her senses to search for one specific AIM signature.

She had made up her mind.

* * *

It had been both more dangerous and more heart-rending than she had expected. They had found the little girl right away. She was bloodied and shell-shocked. They had also caught sight of a dark shadow ghosting away from the scene. Well, they hadn't quite so much as _seen_ the figure as Mikoto felt the tell-tale bending of her magnetic field. A well-placed arc of lightning was enough to ensure that Kuroko and the members of Anti-Skill could see the culprit, too.

Anti-Skill had taken charge of the girl. That was good. It meant that Mikoto could whip out a well-deserved ass-kicking.

"No, no! Don't you _dare_, Onee-sama! This is _Judgment business._" Before Mikoto could get in a second shot, Kuroko had teleported into close-quarters with the suspect, sending him flying up and then crashing down to the ground in her signature move. Except for the fact that the culprit had managed to twist his body in midair, so that he landed crouched on the ground.

"Don't get in my way, Kuroko!" magnetized iron shards swarmed towards the dark figure, who grabbed a long knife from his pocket and cut through the worst of the iron, while dodging the rest with all the grace of an acrobat.

Kuroko had by this time realized that this was no ordinary opponent. Understanding that she had to arrest his movement, Kuroko teleported her large senbon into her hands, beginning the 11-dimensional calculations and probabilities necessary for teleporting the needles into a moving target without actually injuring said target unduly.

She never got the chance to finish. For a man with normal speed, he was _fast_, and knew exactly how to take out a powerful esper – by breaking her concentration. A roundhouse kick to the head had Kuroko flying into a wall. She could only attempt to stagger upright, dizzy and concussed. There was a figure before her eyes. One with red, red eyes. A demon's eyes. The voice was hoarse and gravelly.

"Obey me. I am not your opponent. Defend me against-"

A blast of lightning crashed into the ground next to them, sending charge into Kuroko and the criminal. But, as more lightning shot towards them, it did separate the two.

"Get away from her, do you hear me? If you hurt her, I'll kill you. I'll kill you!" Mikoto was desperate and beside herself, lightening sparking from her wildly, even as her control began to slip. A cage of electricity formed around the man, shrinking in on itself and forcing him to the ground.

"Hmmm?" Woozily, Kuroko got to her feet, swaying in time to the movement of the ground beneath her feet. "Onee-sama?" Her voice was tentative, cautious. "What are you doing? We cannot hurt him. He is to be defended."

Mikoto felt her heart stop. "Kuroko…?" Then she turned on the figure in the flickering light, a feral growl escaping her. "You! What did you do to her? Turn her back right now, before I turn you into cinders!"

The man smirked, but stayed silent.

It was, of course, a taunt. It worked. Frustrated, frightened and angry, Mikoto did what she normally did in a bad situation. She attacked, ruthlessly and without holding back (except for the fact that she didn't want to kill the man, torture perhaps, yes, but kill, not so much.) in a desperate attempt to _end_ her problem.

What she did not expect, though, was for Kuroko to teleport into the shrinking cage, and get the criminal _out_.

"Onee-sama! You can't attack civilians!" Kuroko moved to shield him with her body.

Mikoto choked. The man had silently brought up the knife to the back of Kuroko's head. The message was clear: Back off, or she dies.

Mikoto slowly lowered her hands to her sides, but she couldn't stop herself from saying: "Kuroko, just step away from the criminal. You're not thinking clearly. Please, Kuroko" she added, a desperate edge coming into her voice.

"Onee-sama," Kuroko murmured, a look of confusion coming over her features. But then she straightened, and began to walk towards Mikoto. "Why are you so worried? You should know that I can't just stand by and let you attack civilians. But you won't attack him anymore, yes? Then we'll just get going. Maybe we should head back to headquarters, you're obviously rather tired."

At this point, Mikoto was willing to let the man go. Anything to get him away from Kuroko. "Alright-" she began.

"I don't think so." Came the firm voice from behind Kuroko. The beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips, the criminal continued, looking Kuroko up and down, "you look…nice." A rushed leap forward and he had Kuroko in a choke hold. "Don't worry. You'll get her back in one piece. Well, mostly, anyway."

Mikoto would never really know what happened after that. One minute, she was charging up to let loose a large volley of electricity. Better Kuroko be electrocuted than suffer…that. Kuroko was shouting something, probably some sort of warning. That _bastard_ had a look of shock on his face (Mikoto was perversely gladdened by that; he needed to be brought down a peg or two or five) and then was pushing Kuroko away from himself, in an attempt to use her as a human shield.

The next moment (after the obligatory large flash of brilliant light and billowing dust cloud) Kuroko was face down on the ground, clearly immobile, for all her struggling, but strangely unharmed, while the criminal was staring wide-eyed at the figure whose delicate hand was pressed firmly against his chest, his knife held ready at a pale throat. Blonde hair billowed and then settled, slowly.

Silence; a chill wind. Then, suddenly, the man lowered his knife, and let out a bark of harsh laughter.

"Damn," he said, bitterly. "You really are a monster." His smile became twisted. "A monster and a fool. Weak. I'm One Who Knows the Word of God, now."

He began to recede, sinking into shadow, before waving jauntily. "See you round, _Berserker._"

There were a lot of things that Mikoto could have said at that moment, but as she stared at the truly _weary_ expression on Shokuhou Misaki's face, she could only joke weakly: "What took you so long?"

The answering smile was more of a grimace, but the golden-eyed girl returned dryly, "Don't be ungrateful. I just saved your skin, didn't I?"

"Ha. Ha. Right." But Misaki was here, and the relief was real. And, in the face of everything she had just witnessed, Mikoto couldn't help but feel that their problems could wait.


	6. Guesses and Ghosts

Disclaimer: I sold my complete set of the Encyclopedia Brittanica and bought a trout.

Author's Note: Hey all. I know it's been a long time, but better late than never, right? To all who reviewed/favorited, thanks so much! I'm glad that this story has generated so much interest. **Ragner:** There's a giant blurb waiting at the end of this chapter for you! Read at your peril! But thanks all the same for your input. If there's one thing I don't want to turn Misaki into, it's a Mary Sue, so it's good to know where I stand on that.

Chapter 6: Guesses and Ghosts

They made an odd sight, two girls in Tokiwadai uniforms supporting a third (unconscious) girl dressed in the same uniform between them. Maybe it was the fact that they were type-cast as stuck up ojous, or maybe it was because one of them, with her flowing golden mane, lace gloves, and designer bag, really _did_ look like a stuck up ojou. Definitely not the kind of person anyone would expect to see trudging along a paved road kicking up small whorls of dust in the darkling light of the setting sun.

"Would you stop _glaring_ at me?" Misaki huffed, annoyance coloring her tone.

Mikoto simply glared harder. "What did you do to Kuroko?"

The glower she received in return could have stripped paint from a building. "Mind control, remember? I put her to sleep."

"Then _wake her up!_"

"_After_ I figure out what exactly was done to her."

Mikoto peered at the other girl consideringly. "You can do that?"

Looking affronted, Misaki bit out, "of course I can do that! Strongest telepath in Academy City, remember? It's really just a matter of determining what levels of neurotransmitters are up. That sort of thing."

"Sooo, what exactly, did he do to her?"

Of course, Misaki wasn't obliging. "I will let you know once we reach Judgment headquarters. I want to take a look at the case file first."

"But don't you have some sort of an idea, at least?" It was not a whine. It was NOT.

Misaki had the gall to look amused. "I do. That is why I want to look at the case file first."

Mikoto sighed heavily to express her displeasure, the thin strands of her bangs waving wildly as she did so.

Misaki did laugh, this time. "Patience is a virtue, you know."

"Says the person with mind control powers. You probably personify the phrase 'immediate gratification.'"

"Well, I never said patience was a virtue of mine."

"Ha. Ha."

* * *

Kazari fluttered around the Judgment office helplessly, while Saten-san observed quietly from a corner. They had heard over the radio that a suspect had been engaged, and a child rescued, but nothing on the status of either Misaka-san or Shirai-san. So when Misaka-san and another girl, who had to be the illusive Shokuhou-san, barged through the door, supporting an unconscious Shirai-san between them, she had nearly had a heart attack.

Misaka-san hovering helplessly was not doing good by her nerves, either.

"So, what's wrong with her?" Misaka-san's voice was a demanding bark.

"I said after I've looked through the case file." The other girl's voice possessed a strange, lilting quality, pleasant to listen too, but generally unremarkable. But at the girl's words, she had a responsibility to speak up, especially because Shirai-san herself could not.

"U-u-um, I c-can't let you do that. Civilians are not s-supposed to be involved in Judgment affairs."

Shokuhou-san didn't even bother turning around, but Misaka-san stopped her pacing to smile weakly at Kazari. "It's alright, Uiharu. I'll take full responsibility with Kuroko when she wakes up, but for now, we need to do as Misaki says. (Saten-san raised her eyebrow from her corner, mouthing "Misaki?" at Misaka-san before grinning widely.) I think we're going to need her help on this case. It's beginning to look like we're in over our heads. Again."

Kazari had to let loose a weak chuckle at that. She peered curiously at the golden-haired girl before her. At last, the other spun to face her, and Kazari got a good look at an uncomfortable gaze. The file photo of Shokuhou-san really hadn't captured the sheer unnerving quality of the girl's eyes. "Come on," Shokuhou-san said impatiently, "I haven't got all day."

"Hai!" With a last studying look, Kazari quickly scurried to retrieve the thin case file, before handing it over to the other girl.

The blonde flipped through the file so quickly that Kazari had to wonder how she had managed to read it at all. But she did linger over a few pages, and the expression on her face was thoughtful when she gently set the file down.

"What do you think?" Misaka-san's voice was anxious.

"It looks like my hunch was correct. The main trends in this case appear to be a powerful form of hypnosis." Shokuhou-san tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Hypnosis?" Misaka-san echoed, while Kazari hurriedly opened up the Academy City database of all logged espers.

"Yes. At least a level 3, probably level 4."

Saten-san ambled closer. "That would explain why there were never any signs of a struggle among the victims, right?"

"Possibly. Depends on the kind of hypnosis. Suggestive? Command? Absolute?"

Saten-san flopped into a chair, the pensive expression on her face mirroring Shokuhou-san's. "But wouldn't a truly strong-willed person be able to resist hypnosis, regardless of the type? Or another telepath be able to recognize the hypnosis for what it is?"

Shokuhou-san turned a considering gaze on Saten-san, clearly impressed. "That is…distinctly possible. Although it would depend on the strength of the victim's telepathic powers." She turned towards Misaka-san. "We should-"

"Already on it." Snagging a chair before the computer terminal, list of victim's names in hand, she continued, "I suppose out of the three kinds of hypnosis you mentioned, suggestive is the most easily breakable. What about the others?"

"Command, if done carefully, can be about as unbreakable as absolute. Absolute is usually only employable once, and then requires a careful building up of perceived reality…"

Kazari hunched lower into her chair, trying to focus more on the list of names before her, head spinning. Sometimes, she was glad she was a low-level esper. It made the logistics of esper powers so much easier (How did Saten-san _do it?_).

Gesturing towards the computer screen, she continued, "Like this? Tsukishiro Ayaka? Level 3, ability called 'Tide Pull?' A form of telepathy that enables the user to tug on specific targeted emotions much in the same way that the moon tugs on the ocean waters."

Sporting a thoughtful expression, Shokuhou-san murmured: "That sounds more like a powerful form of empathy to me. Certainly not hypnosis. But it is suspect, given the limited evidence we have. If the emotion 'tugged' on was 'complacency,' for example, you would have no evidence of a struggle."

"But easier to break out of" Saten-san added.

"Yes. That too."

"Alright, we'll keep looking." Misaka-san had the edges of her seat in a white-knuckled grip, as if she was physically keeping herself from pacing. "Misaki, you just fix Kuroko, okay."

"Yes. Yes, of course. I don't know what I'm dealing with, though, so it could take a while," she cautioned.

"Don't care. Just do it." Misaka-san's jaw was tight.

Kazari watched Shokuhou-san crouch down in front of where Kuroko was lying prone on the sofa, placing a hand on her brow. A minute passed by. Then another. Two more. Kazari spun back towards her computer terminal in disgust. Telepathy was _boring_.

* * *

Trying to find the root of the damage was like trying to find Waldo, from space, with a telescope that didn't focus properly. Fortunately, Misaki was very good at finding Waldo. And she had a very good idea of what she was looking for. She just hoped she was wrong.

And, there it was; a dulling of a mental pathway, a newly created association between criminal and protection. She let out the mental equivalent of a hiss, rocking back on her projected heels. It never mattered how the other person's ability worked, how "silent" it normally was. Mental attacks always changed a victim's biochemistry from normal, and if there was a change, she could see it, and change it back. That was why Mental Out was so powerful, of course. With a little bit of imagination and determination she could do almost anything to the human body.

Carefully, she began strengthening the normal associations, severing the unnatural one. Almost idly, she also began combing through recent memory, searching for how much Kuroko knew about her. It was always good to be prepared, and if she was going to have to interact with these people on more than a cursory level, she wanted to be very prepared.

**Damn. It really was him then. **A bark of bitter laughter. **I can't believe I actually thought I would be able to wash my hands of everything.**

* * *

Mikoto had been desperately gathering information in an attempt to divert her attention from Misaki and Kuroko. It hadn't worked all that well, because as soon as Misaki began moving, mumbling whispered assurances to Kuroko, Mikoto was on her feet next to the other girl, Uiharu and Saten close behind, desperately holding her hand.

There was a slight twitching of a slender hand; eyelids fluttered. Then, a scratchy voice moaned: "What _happened_?"

Misaki's voice was soothing. "Don't force yourself. Let it come back slowly." She gestured towards Mikoto, who took her place at Kuroko's side, helping her as Kuroko sat up blindly.

"Kuroko? How do you feel?"

"Like someone took a mallet to my head." But the girl was looking around, eyes narrowed, already cataloging information. "The suspect. What happened to- wait. No way. Did I-?"

Misaki cut in before Mikoto could even open her mouth. "I'm afraid you did. What's the last thing you remember?"

It was perhaps a testament to how unsettled Kuroko was that she took this interruption in stride. "I, we, we were fighting. He, he knew martial arts, or something. I…hit a wall…and then…his eyes. Oh _God_ his eyes. A demon's eyes."

Uiharu looked puzzled. "A demon's eyes? What do you mean?"

"He had red eyes. _Red. _The most horrifying eyes I've ever seen. And then I," she spun towards Mikoto. "I was fighting you. I, for some reason I was…are you okay?"

Mikoto laughed softly. "Don't worry. I'm fine. You know me. Damn hard to kill."

"But I-"

"I'm _fine._ Promise."

It was Saten who brought up the obvious piece of important information. She was grinning. "Kazari? We've got our man. Look up every psychic class esper with red eyes."

"Yes! Of course!"

It didn't take long.

Gathering around the computer terminal, Kuroko read the name of the single plausible suspect. "Zaruthra Ginjo. Age 14. Level 4 esper, ability Law Maker. Command based hypnosis." She sat back, staring at the figure on the screen before her. "Well. That was easy. Suprisingly anti-climactic."

It was Saten who sighed, gesturing towards the screen. "I wouldn't be so sure. Apparently you were fighting a ghost. It says here that Zaruthra's been dead for nearly 3 years."

Silence.

Mikoto sunk into her chair, as if trying to be swallowed up by plush cushions. "Oh that's just not fair. That's really just not fair."

Misaki sighed, running a hand tiredly through her fringe. **Dead huh? It would seem you've been busy, Hiro. Quite busy indeed. And I'm going to be stuck cleaning up your mess. Again.**

* * *

**Ragner:** Oh wow, thank you for bringing this up! I absolutely don't want to give Misaki some sort of all-powerful (Mary Sue). As I envision her, she is NOT a multi-skill esper. As a general rule, I hate skills that let you copy other skills, because it seems like a cop out. This entire fic started when I tried to come up with a reasonable way that Mental Out could actually exist, as a scientifically sound phenomenon. I've been trying to flesh out Mental Out while maintaining true to its weaknesses. And while I plan to give Misaki one more skill that will be a definite power up, it will also come with a rather obvious weakness. I see Mental Out as one ability: the ability to sense and affect (bio)chemical changes in anyone or anything she touches. (Therefore, she's not controlling the electrical signals in the old man's heart, she's stimulating hormones in the brain that will do this for her. It also has been shown in cannon that she can control a person's body, she stops Kuroko and co. from moving during the festival.) She uses the remote to extend her AIM field (which I sort of see as the medium by which she utilizes her powers) to affect people she cannot directly touch. Due to the fact that she can affect people without touching them (and is a Level 5), her AIM field must be ENORMOUS. She should be able to control it, but we've seen telepaths lose control before, in canon, and they cause earthquakes, so I don't crushing a few trees is that unusual. I'm hoping to give the impression of overwhelming pressure, not purposefully done telekinesis. (Also, I have the slight problem that I can't get Bleach out of my head. So, yes, I keep thinking "Reiatsu" before realizing that I should probably tone it down; it doesn't help that TVtropes calls Misaki "Aizen on steroids."). Furthermore, since every esper emits an AIM field, I think that any self-aware esper (telepath especially) would be able to sense another esper's AIM field; I'm assuming Mikoto's is just as unique as Misaki's probably is.


	7. Lies and Leads

Disclaimer: I sold the trout and bought Touhou: Perfect Cherry Blossom (I wish!)

Author's Note: Well…it's longer? Sorry for the super long wait everyone! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorite/alerted; I hope this chapter is up-to-snuff. Also, I'm going to apologize in advanced for the slight shift in terminology; I just got slapped in the face with the fact that _Index _has all this really weird terminology for esper powers, and it's slightly confusing but I hope I got it right? Eh, whatever. **Ragner:** Hehe, sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to freak out on you. Peace? Enjoy the chapter, though. **GamingBookworm:** Glad you like. I'm still deciding that, actually, but hopefully I've provided enough here to make it interesting. I've been trying to do my research, and all I can say is that Academy City politics confuses the hell out of me.

Chapter 7: Lies and Leads

Unsurprisingly, once they had a lead, no one in Judgment's 177th division was willing to defer following up on it to a more reasonable hour. Uiharu had switched the tea for coffee, Saten-san had left to purchase take out, and the rest had converted the cramped headquarters into a debriefing room. Conversation was minimal; the only sounds were the rustles of paper, the steady clacking of fingers on keyboards and the mummer of voices in a conference call against the background of a city's night life.

It was much later, once the mad rush for information had died down, that life was slowly breathed back into the stillness of the office once more.

* * *

"Before we begin," started Konori, setting a thin ream of papers on the table before her while leaning on the back of the chair in front of her and turning to face Misaki, "I would like to thank you for your help. Without you, I don't know what would have happened to Kuroko," she added, smiling weakly at the girl in question. "_However,_" she emphasized, leaning forwards, "while we still have official jurisdiction over this case, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, and agree to submit to surveillance until it is resolved. Just a precaution, you understand."

Mikoto looked justifiably outraged. "What?! You can't do that, Konori-san! Come on, she's already been a great help to us!"

"Us," asked Konori, raising an amused eyebrow. "I don't remember you joining Judgment either, Misaka-san."

"Oh, well, umm…"

"But sempai," Kuroko cut in, "onee-sama has already helped us out on cases like this." A long suffering sigh. "And I don't think we could stop her, anyway."

Mikoto looked smug. Kuroko and Misaki groaned simultaneously.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Ahem. Well. I understand that asking me to leave and submit to surveillance might be standard protocol in an ordinary situation, but this is most definitely _not_ ordinary." Misaki smiled pleasantly. "I am afraid that you are going to need me. None of you are familiar with a _marionette_ ability, is that not so?"

"Be that as it may, it does not change the fact that I do _not_ want you on my team," Konori said firmly.

"K-Konori-sempai," exclaimed Uiharu.

"That was blunt," Saten-san stage whispered.

"But it's true." Konori gestured towards the papers before her. "This is _your_ file, Shokuhou-san. Everything that I could find in the major databases. It's riddled with half-truths, evasions, and outright lies. I'm not going to trust you without some answers; especially when you obviously have the ability to falsify data. Anyway, how do we even know if you're not somehow in league with the culprit?"

"In league with him?! That's an outrage!" Mikoto snarled, flying to her feet.

"In case you've forgotten, _Misaka-san_, Zaruthra's ability is _mind-control._ Shokuhou-san might not have a choice." Konori's eyes hardened, as she drew a paper from the stack. "Furthermore, Shokuhou Misaki and Zaruthra Ginjo are listed as being housed in the same Child Error facility."

Mikoto really didn't have a response to that.

There was slow, heartfelt applause. "You do your homework quite well, Konori-san."

"Umm…Konori-san," Saten-san interjected. "I don't know Shokuhou-san all that well. But Misaka-san trusts her, and from what I've seen, she's not our enemy. Anyway, I doubt those type of attacks would work on her!" She studiously ignored Misaki's sudden, penetrating gaze as she broke into nervous laughter.

"That's a kind sentiment, Saten-san, but I'm not willing to let this go, especially not when we're chasing an esper with mind-control type abilities. I need answers."

"So you say," said Misaki, leaning back in her chair, crossing her legs comfortably, the picture of aristocratic poise. It was designed to provoke.

It worked.

"Anyway," Konori ground out, eye twitching, "let's start with something simple. What's your actual power level? I received some very interesting reports earlier this afternoon about a Tokiwadai student in the main shopping district who somehow managed to send over four city blocks worth of pedestrians to hospitals with what appears to be damage due to an unspecified mental attack. Not to mention the heart attack. Needless to say, a Level 3 has nowhere near that kind of power."

"You did WHAT?!"

Misaki ignored Mikoto. "What makes you think it was me? I can get people to verify that I was at that café at that corner between the downtown supermarket and bookstore."

Konori replied thoughtfully, "I'm sure you can. However," she added sternly, "you made quite a stir. Very noticeable. And the heart attack was most insistent. His savior was his attacker. A Tokiwadai student. Well developed. Blond hair. A demon's eyes."

Misaki flinched slightly, before wry amusement flitted across her visage. "Huh. I suppose it is true after all, what they say about good deeds."

Konori's expression softened, almost against her will. "I have found," she said quietly, "that secrets and lies are very much like sand. You can't build anything lasting upon such foundations, and when you sink too deep you'll find yourself trapped with no hope of salvation."

"Wait," Mikoto cut into the expectant silence, holding up a hand for emphasis. "Misaki," she turned towards the girl in question, "you don't have to answer. We can leave. Right now. You and me, we can go hunt down that sick son-of-a-bitch, and no one can stop us. Not the two of us," she was grinning fiercely.

"Somehow, I doubt that," Misaki mumbled, smiling almost shyly, even as she tugged Mikoto back into her chair, keeping a firm grasp on her hand. "I just can't win, can I," she whispered softly.

Straightening, serious eyes flicked around the table, before settling on Konori. "You were right of course, Konori-san. That amount of power, that level of mental attack, is only possible for a Level 5 psychometry type ability." There were the requisite short intakes of breath. "I am the 5th Level 5 of Academy City, better known as the Queen of Tokiwadai. I would ask that you keep this information to yourselves, but I suspect it's a moot point by now."

Still more silence.

"Come now. Surely it's not that unusual?"

Stare.

"And would you stop laughing?!"

More laughing. A swift kick under the table.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

"Hmph!" A rustle.

"And damn it, stop with the sweets already! You're getting fat!" A pause. "Ow!"

Uiharu blinked again, before leaning over towards her friend. "Somehow, I never thought my first meeting with the two most amazing ojou from Tokiwadai would a boke and tsukkomi routine."

"Huh." Saten-san responded.

* * *

Some small time later, Mikoto had calmed down enough to ask, "Seriously, what happened to all that secrecy? I mean, you were about to…well, you were very determined to preserve it a while back."

Misaki sighed. "That was before I saw Ginjo. Now, I'm beginning to think it's high time I came back with a vengeance, as it were."

"So you do know him," Konori cut in.

"Yes. As you have surmised, we lived in the same Child Error Facility, and were thus part of the same experiment."

"Experiment," whispered Mikoto, more subdued.

"Don't sound so surprised. You know Kiyama Harumi's story, after all. The projects were even similar, in the beginning: inducing the berserker state; produce the chemicals necessary for _Body Crystal._ Unfortunately, this process had an unforeseen side effect on me, due to the true nature of my ability. I didn't _die,_ or become comatose. I actually _went berserk._ Like the Norse warriors of legend. Instead of simply producing those chemicals, I apparently utilized them myself, as a sort of pseudo-Body Crystal. I heard later that I spawned a full-blown Poltergeist event; I know I destroyed…everything…in that testing center." She let out a bitter laugh. "Of course, all the lead researchers were overjoyed; they had a new experiment to start, one where I was the star test subject. They received a lot of support from the higher ups for it, too."

"Is that why Zaruthra called you…?" Mikoto trailed off uncertainly.

"Berserker? Yes. I suppose if you're the Ace of Tokiwadai and the Railgun; I am most accurately considered the Queen of Tokiwadai and the Berserker."

"Then why have we never heard of you before now?" Kuroko asked curiously.

"Because I removed all traces of myself as Berserker from the Academy City databanks. No information should be floating around anymore; no research, no notes, no episode documentation, nothing."

"That seems a bit convenient," Kuroko mumbled, annoyed.

"It is." Misaki smiled. "But then, my power is convenient."

"What is your ability, by the way?" Konori added. "I assume it's not Touch Scan."

"No," Misaki responded, laughingly. "My ability is Mental Out. I suppose at its simplest, it is complete and utter psychological control. I can do many things with this power, but for our purposes, suffice to say that the berserker abilities are the result of an 'amplification of will.'"

"Uhh, this is interesting and all," said Konori, uncertainly, "but it really doesn't help us get any closer to Zaruthra…"

"Oh? I thought I made that clear?" Misaki looked a bit puzzled.

Saten-san rolled her eyes. "Not really."

"Ah. Well, what I meant by telling you about that project was that I know who the main researchers were. Are. And if anyone knows where Ginjo is now, what he's been up to, it'll be him. Masashi Hiro."

Still, the faces around her were relatively blank.

"I mean, I know where Masashi-sensei is. I know where we can find him."

"Well dammit, why didn't you just say so?! Come on, let's go!"

Saten-san leapt from her chair even as Mikoto made her way towards the door. Kuroko practically flung herself out of her chair, a human weight to stop the single-minded girl. "Don't be an idiot, onee-sama. It's nearly midnight."

Misaki studied Konori carefully. "Am I in?"

Konori, looking just as thoughtful, considered the blonde before her before nodding sharply. "You're in. Welcome to the team, Shokuhou-san."

* * *

"I thought you said you knew where you were going!" Kuroko's voice, already rough, came out of the static-filled earpiece sounding like the audible equivalent of sandpaper.

"I did! I do," Misaki huffed in exasperation.

"Are you…sure?" Mikoto asked hesitantly, looking around the dark alleyways and dank nooks of the bad end of the dumping grounds of Academy City's gangs. "I thought you said this Masashi fellow was a government sponsored researcher?"

"Well…he was. He was living by the labs up in district 2 until about a year ago, it seems. I have no idea what he's doing here."

"Seeing as you were hiding," came Saten-san's voice over the earpiece, "wouldn't it be safe to say he's hiding, too?"

"That's what's got me worried," Misaki mumbled tiredly. "I was hiding from him, and by extension most of Academy City's research division. What could be so bad that the higher ups actually dropped him and may or may not be actively hunting him down?"

"Oh," Saten-san whispered.

"You know," Mikoto said lightly, "you could just be being ridiculously pessimistic."

"I prefer to call it realism," Misaki sniped back.

"Oh, everyone? We've got to hurry. Looks like Konori-sempai was right; I just got a text saying that we're going to be taken off the case; Konori-sempai says she's stalling, but we don't have a large time frame."

"Why am I not surprised?" Misaki turned towards Mikoto. "There. You see? Justified pessimism."

Kuroko cut Mikoto off before she could respond with something suitably chirpy and irritating. "Shokuhou-sama, you need to be more positive. Remember that while you wear that uniform, you represent all that is respectable and commendable in a person. Your overly paranoid outlook towards life is neither and will have a negative impact on Tokiwadai's image."

Misaki looked stunned, absolutely flabbergasted, her mouth opening and closing uselessly.

Mikoto smirked. '_Paranoid'_ she mouthed.

"Why, hello, girlies. What's a pair of pretty little things like you doin' here? Wanna have some fun?" Slinking from the shadows, a group of teenagers, not quite boys and not yet men hovered menacingly. The one who had spoken shifted his stance, holding his belt buckle provocatively.

"I'll leave this to you, Misaka~san." Mikoto shot her companion a dirty look. "What? It's what you're here for!"

A roll of the eyes. "Hai, hai." She waved Misaki away. "You just get those directions, or something." Mikoto turned towards the gang members. "Alright, why don't you be good little boys and go on home already…"

The leader's eyebrow twitched. "Don't get too cocky, brat. We'll have our fun one way or another." He flexed his hand, and the dust and dirt and sand on the ground rose up in a thin column, compressing and solidifying until he held a dirty glass blade in his hand. He raised the blade triumphantly, crowing: "and don't think this is ordinary glass! So long as I will it, this blade is unbreakable! Muwahahaha!"

Mikoto sweat-dropped. "I don't think you're supposed to tell me that…"

"Arrrrgh! Get her!"

It didn't take too long to deal with the idiot with the glass blade. A well placed bolt of electricity had him out cold, and the weapon turned to sand without his calculations to force it to retain its form. A swirl of magnetized dirt and sand formed a temporary shield against the twin fire wielders; theirs was a more interesting attack: one created large sweeping blasts of flame, the other pinpoint blasts. Unfortunately, while the twins certainly worked well together, the group as a whole definitely didn't. A fourth gang member managed to turn the consistency of asphalt into that of molasses, but ended up sinking most of his fellows as he tried to catch Mikoto.

"Dammit! Shou," one boy swore as he flailed uselessly, before bringing his arm across in a sweeping movement that had rubble attacking the other boy in the head.

Mikoto, meanwhile, had managed to get out of being thigh-deep in liquid asphalt with little difficulty; it was just a matter of aligning her magnetic field and that of the steel bars in the reinforced concrete building behind her and letting magnetic attraction work its magic. Although it _hurt_ to be slammed into concrete quite that hard. She grimaced, and two more bolts took out the telekinetic and the density shifter, leaving the two flame users trapped in asphalt up to their waists by happy coincidence. A blast of fire blew up nearly in her face; _okay, so their hands weren't trapped._ _Don't they know when to stay down?_ Two more bolts of lightning as insurance, one more for good measure, as a warning to all idiots to stop being idiots.

It seemed the last two had more common sense; they made to turn tail and run. Or at least, they _tried _to run.

"Ah ah ah," Misaki sang cheerfully, wagging her remote for emphasis. "Now, we're in a hurry~! So, which of you has a more extensive knowledge of this area's geography?" She punched another combination into her remote, and Mikoto watched as the boys' expressions shifted from shock to pure unadulterated terror.

"I know this feels uncomfortable, but don't worry," Misaki tutted, "there are no lasting effects. But really, it's what you get for thinking such disgusting thoughts about such a 'harmless, pretty young girl.' Although I don't really think Mikoto is harmless. Ahah! Found you!" She turned towards the boy with the shoddy die-job. Catching hold of his chin in a delicate-fingered grip, she gently turned his head, so that he was staring, horrified into her eyes. "Mmmm. I never thought my eyes were that bad." She smiled beatifically. "Do not move. Await further orders."

She stepped back, nodding thoughtfully to herself. Then, she turned to look at the boy, a dark-haired, puny thing, who had just wet himself. She glided towards him.

"Misaki." It was Mikoto, looking a little unnerved. But she still grabbed the other girl's wrist, stopping her, before spinning the blonde around and placing her hands on bare upper arms. Warm, earnest brown met molten gold, illusive and fey. "Enough. That's enough. No more."

There was a tense, endless second, before Misaki seemed to _ease. _Her answering smile was weak, but understanding. "Alright." She turned to the last standing boy, gestured with her remote, and commanded: "sleep." He dutifully collapsed.

She turned to the other still under her control, and said, "Take us to this address. Shortest route without being seen. Here are some landmarks." She didn't verbally give any address, so Mikoto guessed this was an instance of plant-the-information-directly-into-a-mind. Mikoto and Misaki followed the boy in silence.

* * *

They made it to their destination in good time, without further trouble. It was a patchwork place, with peeling paint and warped and rotting wooden siding. Nothing at all like Mikoto was used to, and certainly not what one pictured when entering Academy City. The entire building reeked of fear and decay.

Misaki's voice was suitably hushed as she gave her final commands to their guide. "Return to where we left the others from that fight. Make no detours, talk to no one. You will forget that you led Mikoto and me to this place, you will also forget the existence of this address, and the importance of these landmarks. Instead you have remained with your friends, waiting for them to awaken, or wandered in search of help; some suitable story. You are your own once the first of your associates has regained consciousness. Go." The boy turned and walked away, fading into the shadows.

Mikoto was staring after the retreating figure, a frown on her lips. She shifted to find Misaki watching her seriously. "Will he," she began, uncertainly, "will he remember any of that? Being controlled like that?"

"Only the very end of the fight, when I stopped both their movement and prevented access to their abilities." She sighed softly. "And when I sifted through their minds, but they won't remember what I was looking for. I don't normally allow people to remember, but this time…"

"Maybe they'll have learned something," Mikoto finished.

"We can only hope," Misaki agreed.

"It's a frightening power."

"Yes," came the quiet reply. "But it is _my_ power."

There was companionable silence for a moment, before Mikoto straightened. "Well, shall we," she asked, with a sweeping gesture.

Misaki nodded, "Let's."

They made their way across the street, wordlessly scanning the area before Misaki took a step forward, plastered a smile firmly in place, and then knocked smartly on the door.

There was no answer.

The street, the insides of the houses, all was suffocating under a fear-laden silence.

The two girls glanced at each other uncomfortably, before Misaki tried again. And then a third time, louder. She had just raised her hand to knock for a fourth time, when the door swung open, revealing a pallid face with sunken eyes. An angry voice snarled, "Alright, dammit! Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Misaki's smile widened, predatory. "Hello, Masashi-sensei."

The man's eyes widened. "Oh no. Oh hell no." He jerked back, already moving to slam the door shut, but Misaki had already wedged her foot and shoulder in-between the door and jamb, and with surprising strength, had pushed her way inside.

"Oh _yes_, Masashi-sensei. I am afraid, we will have _words._"


	8. House Calls and Head Cases

Disclaimer: (I'm not selling my Touhou!) So nope, still really don't own.

Author's Note: This is freaking long! So be happy. And thank **Destiny Galactic** for the update, because without him/her it probably wouldn't have happened right now! Uh yeah, I'm just going to apologize for the Christian symbolism now, because once I included logos I really couldn't stop. So…inside joke to all who catch it! Thanks everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted, glad you are all enjoying the ride! **Akurelus:** I…totally didn't recognize that until you pointed it out, actually. So I'm going to have to say yes, Misaki's a gemstone in this AU, because I'm not going back and fixing it. Ah, well, it won't really be important to the story. **Namikaze:** Glad you're enjoying the story so far…as for Mikoto's stupid electric field, I'm just going to claim artistic license. ;)

Chapter 8: House Calls and Head Cases

Silence was a stalemate that Masashi broke. He slumped back into his chair, half weary half resigned, as he stated more than asked, "You're still alive."

Mikoto knew Misaki well enough to see exactly when some of her vaunted control snapped. She surged forward and half-hauled Masashi out of his seat, a snarl on her lips. "No thanks to you," she hissed.

The smug expression twisting across his face had Misaki releasing the man in disgust, and the researcher dusted imaginary specks off his clothes and straightened his collar before saying in an even, reasonable tone, "it was just business, my dear. Nothing personal, you know."

Misaki's face twisted even more. "I would like to remind you that I am still perfectly capable of turning you into a brain-dead lump of flesh. _Do not push me._"

"Me? Toy with you? Never!" He spoke with a wide-eyed innocence that had Mikoto grinding her teeth.

"Hey, listen here, you sick bastard," she grit out, "Don't you dare start talking back to Misaki like that or I'll…"

"You'll what," Masashi spat, cutting her off, "electrocute me? Torture me?" His eyes darted towards Misaki. "Shokuhou-san's found me, that means the academy city officials can't be that far behind. I'm as good as dead already."

Mikoto found herself shaking, small sparks skittering across her vision. But then a bare hand was slipping gently into her own, and she found herself wondering inanely when Misaki had taken off her gloves. **Calm down. He gets a kick out of making us angry.** It was strange, Mikoto decided, feeling the anger suddenly drain out of her (or maybe just become more distant) and not knowing whether it was Misaki or she herself who had done it.

Misaki had regained her calm. Gone was the wounded child and in her place was _the Queen._ It was an impressive transformation, and one Mikoto had never seen before. It was easy to see in this moment how the girl before her had been able to win over numerous devotees among the students and powerful backers among the board of trustees of Tokiwadai. Her eyes were cruciate amber, hard and dead, for all that the color was warm.

A smirk curled across her face at how off-balance Masashi suddenly looked. It was clear he didn't know _what_ to think.

Misaki prowled towards the unnerved man in his chair. "I'm not interested in your _games_, Masashi-sensei. I want information, and you're going to give it to me." She idly examined her nails. "I don't really care how," she added.

"I-i-information," he squeaked.

Her face became cold. "I want Zaruthra. And LOGOS."

And while it was the first Mikoto had heard of LOGOS (and here she thought she knew all the more shady goings-on of Academy City, she was friends with that _baka_, after all), it clearly meant something to Masashi. His face went bone white.

"I can't! You know I can't!" His voice was pure desperation. "You destroyed everything!"

"Do you take me for a fool? I know _you_. LOGOS may have shut down, but you would never just _stop._ Ginjo practically told me as much, anyway."

"No," he choked out, eyes wild, "No!" Scrambling, he moved to get up and _away_.

"Mikoto."

It was a single word, but Mikoto knew exactly what Misaki wanted. Her smile was predatory as she realigned magnetic fields, slamming the man into his refrigerator door.

"Now, now, we can't have any of that." Striding forward, she raised a hand threateningly. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Take your pick."

"The easy way! The easy way!" And it was sort of disgusting just how easily he had fallen apart.

"I was hoping you would say that." She turned towards Mikoto, offering an open hand. "Mikoto, I want you to be my witness." And it was strange how a single sentence could be so loaded with questions. 'Will you trust me?' that hand seemed to say. 'Will you not run from what you see?'

Mikoto didn't hesitate.

_Yes._

* * *

It was like being at the center of a whirling, slicing tornado. Mikoto was seeing spinning, blurring, _things_, and if it weren't for the anchor of Misaki's hand, she would have been overwhelmed. As it was, it was all she could do to pick out and focus on one memory among the storm. So she focused on Misaki instead. The girl was emanating a strange glow of molten gold, bronze tendrils slipping away from her body into the whirlwind around them, and grabbing, or tugging, or absorbing memories (the taste, flavor, and feel of them) where they became…data? Or at the very least knowledge she consumed and digested.

It was a little frightening, truthfully. And anyway, Mikoto didn't know what she was supposed to be witnessing.

There was a sudden shift, a spin in the morass before her. **Here. Don't be afraid.** A tug. And she was suddenly standing in the sterile, white, equipment-laden room of a research laboratory.

She whirled towards Misaki, confusion and concern warring for dominance on her face. _Wha…? What's going on? Where are we?_

**Don't you know? In memory.** Misaki shrugged. **I'm going to try and show you the highlights of what I'm sifting through.**

_And…what are you looking at, exactly?_

There was a pause. **LOGOS.**

_Ah._

_Actually, Misaki. Why are you doing this?_ And it was strange, seeing the slightly wounded expression that flickered across the other girl's face before she could help herself. But then again, perhaps not. Emotions were more raw in the mind, after all.

**I don't want anyone to be able to say I manipulated or falsified information. This is…too important to me, too personal; and I don't know how I'll…be, afterwards. **

Mikoto studied the other girl a moment, taking in the slight pink hue to her cheeks. She felt her face softening despite herself. _ I'll protect you. I promise._ A fond smile crept over her face, yeah, definitely red now.

In a single motion the pair of Level 5s turned to face the memory together.

…

It turned out that the room wasn't so much a laboratory as an observatory. Fluorescent lights threw the sharp lines and angles into high relief as arguing voices stabbed at the stillness.

"I'm telling you, this procedure is too inefficient. We collect what? Maybe half a liter at most of the formula, before the specimen burns out? And that's before the stuff is even condensed down. There's no way you can consider this cost effective, when compared to the amount it takes to simply maintain each specimen."

It was Masashi. A younger, healthier Masashi, without that constant look of wary terror on his face, but Masashi all the same.

"What would you have me do," asked the other researcher, an older man, graying with thick bushy brows and a peaked appearance. "You're new, so let me give you a word of advice. Do what you're told and give the boss what he wants and _no more._ Then you'll go far kid, you'll go far."

"But I have ideas! Look, if we just-"

"Enough! The subjects have arrived," the older researcher cut Masashi off, pointing to the floor-to-ceiling glass window that had been protected by retractable paneling. "Everyone, get to your stations. You too, Masashi-kun."

As Masashi moved towards one of the computer banks, the lead researcher headed towards the viewing window. Mikoto found herself ghosting along with him. She couldn't quite stop the gasp that escaped her lips. There were thirteen children being herded into the room, dressed in loose medical shifts. They couldn't be older than ten, each was being directed to an oblong pod by a technician, while a pretty young woman was talking to another researcher in a long lab coat. She kept throwing nervous glances at the children.

But Mikoto hadn't really noticed any of that. Her eyes had been arrested at the sight of golden hair like spun sunlight, and her heart was stuttering in her chest. She wrenched her eyes towards Misaki, mouth open to ask she didn't know what, but the words died in her mouth. Misaki's face was blank but she had a hand pressed up to the glass. Mikoto turned away.

The preparations passed quickly, whatever they were. And then there was the whir of machines powering up and voices raised in cross checks and sounding out benchmarks as all thirteen of the subjects' minds were kicked into overdrive.

Then all hell broke loose.

"Sir! The Poltergeist effect is spiking! It's crossing acceptable limits!"

"Number 4! Number 4 is seizing!"

"Formula levels dropping!"

"AIM Field levels increasing!"

"Number 4's psychometric levels are fluctuating! We have to stop! She- it's gone. Her mind's gone!"

"But that's imposs-" the lead researcher was thrown to the ground as the first massive tremor hit them. And then the unthinkable happened. A small fist punched through the collection pod. A second one appeared in a shower of plastic and glass and cables, followed by a golden head and hunched shoulders.

The elderly man practically flew to the intercom. "Stop that girl, before she destroys everything. Terminate Specimen 52-76/J. I repeat, terminate-"

But no one was listening anymore, and with good reason. Because when the first technician had grabbed the small child with sedative in hand, rather than struggle or run away, she _tore his arm off._ And it was as if she were on _fire_ – an AIM field made visible, swirling and angry and violent and actively destroying everything around her. Another technician, who simply happened to be in her way, suddenly collapsed bleeding from mouth, nose, and ears.

Bullets didn't even faze her, when the research center guards came. Whatever this state was, it came with incredibly enhanced physical prowess – she _dodged_ the bullets, or caught them – and then proceeded to use bloody, torn hands to rip bodies apart. Even the few rounds that got past her defenses and lodged themselves in her gut didn't slow her down.

In the end, it was only flooding the laboratory with a potent knock-out gas that stopped her. And it was at a concentration 6 times more than her weight should have needed.

The silence, once the smoke cleared, was deafening. Mikoto couldn't even look at her companion.

…

The scene changed; a conference room.

"Specimen 52-76/J needs to be terminated! You all saw the destruction!" It was the bushy-browed lab researcher.

"Thank you, Sendou-sensei," said a thin, elderly man with a secretive face. "But I believe we can make use of this mishap and still maintain our timetable." He nodded towards Masashi.

"Thank you, Kihara-sensei. What we have before us is a unique opportunity to study the use of crystallized esper essence in its most natural form. We all saw the results; they are most impressive. Specimen is 52-76/J is a psychometry type esper, Level 2." He paused dramatically. "Her levels while in that berserk state? Level 4. This is the chance of a lifetime gentlemen! If we induce a strong enough episode of the berserker state in Specimen 52-76/J, we may finally be able to achieve SYSTEM!" Masashi's face was shining.

"That's all well and good," said Sendou slowly, as if talking to a particularly dull-witted child, "but while in the berserker state Specimen 52-76/J is little more than a mindless beast, and I seem to recall SYSTEM requiring a _functioning _mind."

"What if the calculations are subconscious," Masashi shot back, annoyed. "Anyway, our new project should be to attempt to tame the berserker state in this subject, and seek the perfection of SYSTEM through her!"

Sendou looked like he wished to object, but Kihara Gensei stood up before he could. "I believe that is a most worthy endeavor, Masashi-kun." He smiled lightly. "Shall we make it a competition, with the scientists involved in the proposed Level 6 Shift experiment?" There was a round of amused snickering, but it quickly dissolved into a pregnant silence. "So," Kihara mused, "who is my key to heaven?"

Masashi pushed a file towards the older man. "Specimen 52-76/J. Shokuhou Misaki. Her ability is called Mental Out."

The scientists were all silent, digesting that. "Shokuhou Misaki, hmmm," Kihara whispered, "will you be one to reach the heavens? The One Who Knows the Will of God?" He looked up at the assembled scientists. "If you will indulge an old man's eccentricity, I would call this project LOGOS."

"LOGOS," asked Masashi, puzzled.

Kihara Gensei's smile was wrong, somehow, when he responded. "Greek, meaning 'reason.' But it is also the principle of order and knowledge for the philosophers and magicians; that through which the divine makes all things, according to the religious. Is it not fitting that we scientists have our own Logos, too?"

Masashi's grin was biting. "LOGOS it is then! Let's reach heaven with these hands."

…

"You can't keep running these tests Masashi!" It was Sendou, looking older and more haggard. There was a weariness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "You'll break her! It's amazing she's even lasted this long," he finished quietly, shaking his head.

Masashi glared at the other man, and there was something mad, desperate, in his eyes. "We're so close I can _taste_ it."

"It's been two years-"

"And we have a Level 5! A Berserker who can maintain conscious calculations for over three hours and still have the strength to destroy armies!"

"And whose synapses are overloading! Her mind is fraying, Masashi-kun! She's spending more and more of her calculative ability just trying to maintain her sanity during each episode. You're going to trigger a meltdown!"

"No. NO! This is just the final barrier between Level 5 and Level 6!" He stalked forward, laying violent hands on Sendou. "And if you keep challenging my authority, I will see to it that you disappear. Am I making myself clear," he said, voice full of menace.

"Perfectly," came Sendou's petulant voice.

…

The alarms were screaming and the fire sprinklers drizzling down on a scene of sheer carnage. Blood, debris, and moaning bodies littered the ground, but a certain test subject was conspicuously absent.

Masashi was screaming into a telephone. "Just get Anti-Skill here now! Judgment, I don't care. We have a Code 10 breakout, do you hear me?! Code 10!" He slammed the phone down. "Dammit, I have to stop her before she destroys everything!" He took off running, following the carnage.

(Mikoto sprinted after him.)

The building was smoking and burning and clearly coming down by the time they made it outside. But Masashi didn't even notice the ruin for the scene before him. Mikoto felt bile rising in her throat.

The place had clearly been the scene of an epic battle between the more powerful members of Judgment, Anti-Skill, the military and the research center guards and one thirteen year old girl. Misaki's hair had been dyed red with blood; her face was speckled with the stuff. And it was Misaki, the Misaki she knew. Her arms hung limp at her sides, twin bleeding messes of charred flesh. The blood vessels in her eyes had burst again, staining her sclera red. Never had she looked more demonic than now. But never more pitiful than now, either. An enormous spear of earth had stabbed clean through her middle, and two more through her hands. She was held up in some sick parody of a cross.

It was soft laughter that brought Masashi out of his stupor. Kihara Gensei was laughing. He smirked. "It would seem the Logos is always destined to die on a cross," he said, sketching a mocking bow, before laughing again.

There was a soft, wet sound as earth was retracted and then a heavy thump as the limp form plummeted to the ground.

"Dead," Masashi choked out. "Dead? That's not…she can't…"

"I doubt even the Berserker can survive being electrocuted and then stabbed through the abdomen," said Kihara breezily. He waved flippantly at Heaven Canceller, who had already moved to the body to call time of death. "Send me the autopsy reports when you're done, will you?"

Heaven Canceller's look was sharp. "You don't even care. A prized test subject dead, a child dead, at your hands, and you don't even care?!"

"Sacrifices must be made for the sake of progress…"

"Sacrifices," mumbled Heaven Canceller bitterly. His hand came to rest on a blood-stained neck. "Time of Death 14:13 April 4th, 2009." He glared. "I hope you're happy."

"Oh, perfectly," responded Kihara. "This has been quite a successful experiment, all told. Well now," he made shooing motions, "away with her." He paused when he came to where Masashi was kneeling on the ground. "Come along, Masashi-kun. There is a young man I would like you to meet."

…

"This is impossible!"

"Patience, Masashi-kun. With the rarified doses of Crystallized Esper Essence Zaruthra-kun is coming along splendidly. His calculative ability is beginning to rival that of Specimen 52-76/J."

Masashi snorted. "For a limited period of time. And only the 25% calculative ability Shokuhou spent towards enhancement of will and bodily functions. That leaves 75% untapped potential in Shokuhou that Zaruthra can't even dream of attaining."

"Ah, but there you are wrong. For Zaruthra-kun has one distinct advantage over the former Specimen 52-76/J: when he enters the berserker state, he doesn't lose his sanity."

"But it's not enough! He's not enough! It's an unnatural state that we can barely wake him up from!"

Kihara was frowning. "I think," he began deliberately, "that you should take some time off. Yes," he nodded to himself, "it is time for a sabbatical, I believe."

"What?! No! No, you can't do this! I won't! I WON'T!"

…

"Not that I'm not pleased to see you again, Masashi-sensei, but what are you doing here? Aren't you on vacation?"

"Can't a man just want to see his favorite boy, Ginjo-kun?"

The boy looked skeptical. "Then why are we headed to the lab?"

"Because we recently got some new toys I thought you might be interested in. Didn't you say you wanted to know more about neuroscience?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Oh, come on – don't tell me you're afraid of breaking a few rules?"

Masashi looked smug enough that Zaruthra puffed out his chest self-importantly, saying, "Of course not! Let's go."

He didn't see the deranged grin on the face of the man behind him.

"So," asked Zaruthra curiously, "what did you want to show me? 'Cause I don't see anyth-"

Things happened quickly after that. Masashi slammed his heavy clipboard into the boy's head, before stuffing him into a glass chamber. He then ran to the computer banks lining the walls, powering them all up, ignoring the intruder alert as it went off. He began typing in commands, hitting buttons, bringing machines to life, and finally starting the inducement of the berserker state.

"If increments don't work, how about one massive shock," he whispered before cackling.

The tube began to fill with a viscous fluid, and then the boy was screaming, and then the scream too was gone as the liquid covered his mouth and nose. Masashi didn't heed the men who came in and grabbed him, forcing him to the ground; he had eyes only for the boy in the tank, convulsing and screaming in silent agony.

A crack split down the side of the tank.

Alarms wailed, the shriek of shattering glass, the hiss of releasing liquid and gas, and then silence.

Laughter. Mad laughter from a boy with a terrible light in a demon's eyes.

"Weak. You're all so _weak_. Pathetic groveling _worms._ Small before this universe. I have no use for you. Now I go to seek my Eve. Bring your sacrifices to the Inferno's Gate if you wish to avoid the oncoming Wrath."

Then he was gone.

* * *

Returning was a sudden event that probably shouldn't have been painful but was.

One look at Misaki told Mikoto that the girl was at her limit. Mikoto wasn't surprised, she was pretty certain she was experiencing shock herself, except she wouldn't let herself think about it too much. She couldn't, not now that Misaki was out of the equation. So she did what she did best, and took control of the situation.

Masashi was clearly out cold, but she shocked him once anyway, just for good measure. She had really begun to hate the man.

She then moved over to Misaki, who was staring dully at nothing. "C'mon Misaki," she coaxed softly. "We've got to go now." She gently tugged on the unresponsive girl's hand.

Awareness surfaced for a moment in golden eyes, like a catfish from murky depths. "Wait," came the whisper, "have to-" Misaki stumbled further into the house, Mikoto right behind her, into a small, cluttered office and workroom. She began rifling through drawers and file cabinets, until she found a small case with external hard drives, floppy disks, DVDs, and USBs in it. One more search, and she had a small packet of files in her hands.

Mikoto looked at her quizzically. "What are these?"

Misaki was still looking peaky and withdrawn. "LOGOS," she choked out. "Me, Zaruthra-" she looked like she was about to be sick.

"Okay," Mikoto soothed, "okay." She grabbed the precious files and then wound an arm about the other girl's shoulders, ushering her out of the room. They ignored the prone body on the floor. "Don't worry, I've got you. Let's get out of here, the authorities are coming soon."

Mikoto had made it out the door, but Misaki had frozen once she saw the empty streets before her, a hunted look in her eyes. Mikoto studied her quietly for a moment before holding out her hand. "I promised you I would protect you. I won't let them take you back. Never again."

Misaki's hand was cold, but the slight pressure of her fingertips, that was real.


	9. Hospitals and Hope

Disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a walrus.

Author's Note: Well, I'm not dead, although I sort of feel death is the only thing that can justify this lateness. This is a bit of a slow chapter, but I hope you will all enjoy the surprise character (and hopefully not too out-of-character). Just a quick thanks to everyone who favorited/alerted/reviewed with special thanks to **Destiny Galactic **for providing the necessary prodding. (Sorry for being so late!) Enjoy!

Chapter 9: Hospitals and Hope

Misaki had been rather shell-shocked by the whole ordeal. That was not so unusual, although Mikoto had been expecting a more violent reaction. However five days later Misaki was still drifting through her own life like a wraith; something needed to be done, before the fallout became _drastic_.

There was only so much damage control that could be done in the wake of the breakdown of a Level 5, after all.

As it was, the damage was already mostly done, a corrosive rust eating away at the infrastructure of the lies Misaki had used to rebuild her life. The whispers that had followed Mikoto were for once not about her in the days after Misaki's _outburst_ in the shopping district, and they had reached a crescendo after a public announcement that had warned Academy City's populous of a relapse of former inpatient Shokuhou Misaki – Level 5, _Berserker_ – of psychiatric wards in District 2.

(Uiharu had at least managed to "release" a special alert stating that Misaki had been recovered and the medical facility of District 2 was conducting an investigation into the cause of her recent public relapse, advising a stand-down from Yellow Alert. The entire 177th Judgment Branch had then been on edge waiting to be arrested for disseminating false information, but by the fourth day with still no repercussions, it became obvious that they had entered the waiting game. The only question was, _with whom?_)

When Misaki finally returned to Tokiwadai on a chilly Friday morning with (by happy coincidence) Heaven Canceller in tow, all such thoughts of intrigue vanished from her thoughts – intrigue wasn't really Mikoto's forte, anyway.

…

Returning to Tokiwadai after everything that had happened; returning to the mundane trivialities, the disgusting _pettiness_, the gossips, the stares and the calculation of _fourteen-year-olds_, as if they actually knew something about the world, was enough to force the hysterical, manic laughter that Misaki had been trying to choke back for the better part of a week to begin to bubble forth again. She was feeling unmoored and unhinged and exposed and she really didn't want to lash out because she didn't even know what would _happen_. She needed to focus but she _couldn't_ and her mental shields were in tatters and there was that incessant poking _again_ by some over-eager telepath –

**Weren't you ever taught any manners?**

It was child's-play toset up a quarantine space and immobilize the over-confident idiot and then follow the connection back into the telepath's mind. She began rifling through memories of gossip with luxuriant slowness.

**I thought you would have realized who I am by now, Chitose-san. Or are you always the fool, rushing in?**

But of course she was – a weak and pathetic parasite of other's success.

**You would do well to remember your place, Chitose-san.**

She did the psychic equivalent of a drop-kick, punting the nosey brat out of the confines of her mind, her lips twisted smugly at the slight trickle of blood that ran from Chitose-san's nose -

– She wouldn't deny she was feeling quite the vindictive bitch right now.

She could sense Mikoto throwing her worried glances, but didn't bother acknowledging them. The Railgun was an Electromaster, after all, and didn't really understand the ins-and-outs of proper telepathic etiquette. And there was that tell-tale shift in psychic energies: the sudden building up of rage in the empath two rows back followed by feeble attempts at enhancing feelings of confusion and bewilderment coordinated with simultaneous violent attacks from the other telepaths in the class (as if _her_ shields were penetrable).

She could see her various attackers stiffen physically as she shrugged off their attack like the worthless insects they were, a contemptuous expression settling on her face as Nakamura-sensei _finally_ realized that there was an "event" going on, even as he was lecturing. Her expression settled into something colder; now would be the perfect time to make a _statement_.

Her lips twisted into a pleasantly empty smile as Nakamura-sensei suddenly froze, cut off mid-sentence, the look of fear on his face quickly spreading to all of his students as they suddenly found themselves immobile, mute, and powerless: completely at the mercy of the blond who was strolling leisurely towards the front of the classroom, idly fiddling with a pen in hand.

"There seems to be some confusion, among the rank-and-file of this institution," she started, staring coldly out at the sea of faces before her, "as to how subjects should treat their _Queen,_" she spared a contemptuous glance for Chitose-san, "especially those who claim to know me best." Rapping her pen sharply against the lecture podium, she continued, "Chitose-san! Who am I?"

The other girl rose, but from the terror in her eyes, it was clearly not a voluntary action. Her voice trembled as she was forced to speak. "Sh-Sh-Shoku-h-hou M-Misaki-sama. The Queen!" The terror was far more pronounced now.

Misaki's smile widened into a mocking grin. "Very good! Sit down, Chitose-san."

The girl sat.

"And you," she commanded, her gaze spearing the impudent empath. "What level esper am I?"

The girl, wide-eyed and shaking, answered hoarsely, "L-l-level 5! Ma'am!"

"Excellent! And do I take kindly to people nosing about my personal affairs," she asked gently.

"N-no," she whispered, shedding silent tears.

**And now would be a good time to soften. **

Her gaze gentling, Misaki let the empath sink into her chair, and cover her face with her hands. Once the other girl had settled, she continued, "This is academy city, where the incredible happens, every day. As for that…announcement…I can see that many of you are concerned about my continued presence at Tokiwadai. Heaven Canceller," she smiled slightly at the interest the casual dropping of the name invoked, "is currently speaking on my behalf to the administration. But I feel that you also, as my classmates or as members of my faction, deserve to be made aware of the particulars of the situation."

Misaki paused for a moment, as if to gather courage and take a breath. She also relaxed her grip on the assembly before her. Nobody noticed.

"I was in an…accident…about two years ago. I spent over nine months in a hospital in District 2, but I never fully recovered. The so-called "relapse," however, was nothing of the sort. Heaven Canceller will attest that I am still in full control of my abilities."

A careful hand was raised as class-representative Suzano-san dared to ask, "Then where were you, these past five days?"

A wry smile flitted across Misaki's face. "Being examined by Heaven Canceller at the hospital. I understand the dangers of a Level 5 who cannot control her own power better than most." She peered around the classroom, as if looking for more questions, before smiling lightly, "Now, if we can get back to the lesson at hand?"

…

"So," Mikoto asked dryly, as she settled down next to Misaki on the roof during their lunch hour, "how much of that speech was actually true?"

There was a soft laugh from the other girl, and Mikoto felt herself smiling in response. She had been worried for a while, what with how volatile the blond seemed. "You know me too well, Misaka-san."

"Ha. You're damned terrifying, manipulating everybody like that. You know that, right?"

There was a sidelong glance from Misaki. "Not all of us can walk over the mud without being dirtied by it, Mikoto."

And that was...strange imagery while Misaka Mikoto was not a philosopher. Shrugging to herself, Mikoto asked instead, concern coloring her voice, "were you really at the hospital, all this time?"

"I…really wasn't in a good place Mikoto. I'm still not okay."

Studying her friend carefully for a moment, Mikoto finally offered, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about," murmured the other girl, staring blankly up at a cloudless sky. "I was a monster. I _am_ a monster. Because of me people, too many people, are dead. Another boy was turned into a psychopath. A murderous, raping animal, who I'm going to have to hunt down and stop. All for the sake of one man's twisted dream. Hell, I don't think I'd be willing to do all of that to fulfill my own dream, and I've _already_ lied, cheated, stolen, and manipulated my way out of all the trouble I've ever been forced into." There was a sudden, harsh bark of bitter laughter as she continued jovially, "And never mind the fact that Academy City and Tokiwadai writ large probably all consider me some unhinged, over-powered psychopath right now, anyway!"

It hurt. It honest-to-God _hurt_ to hear Misaki talk about herself that way, so matter-of-fact. But it was also self-pity. And Misaka Mikoto had no patience for self-pity.

Straightening, Mikoto stared hard at her friend. "Then why are you here," she asked coldly. "If you're such a monster, why don't you go lock yourself up in some mental hospital? Or, better yet, end your miserable existence so we don't have to worry about two sociopathic maniacs with mind-controlling powers on the loose?"

Mikoto wasn't quite certain what response she was expecting. It certainly wasn't the stunned look on the other girl's face morphing into rueful laughter.

Puzzled and more than a little miffed, Mikoto turned away in a huff. "I was just trying to help, jeez. You don't have to _laugh_ at me…"

"No, no! It's not that," the other girl wheezed. "It's just, that's the second time I've heard that speech this week."

"What?"

"At the hospital. I…wanted to go check on the girl."

"Oh." A pause. "Was she…?"

"Recovering."

"I see."

"Well, I met a boy; another one of Heaven Canceller's patients. He…he was very kind."

…

"_You know, most healthy people avoid hospitals like the plague. And yet you've spent the last three days here? And you're healthy, as far as I can tell…"_

_She hadn't expected company. She hadn't wanted it either, actually, going out of her way to alternate between staying in the empty hospital rooms of the patients under Heaven Canceller's care and the coma ward (and also room 412 – the Girl's – when she was asleep, that is)._

_She turned slowly from the Girl's bed, unable to even muster the energy for a glare at the intruder. It was a boy, not much older than she was, with unruly hair that stuck up in dark tufts all over his head and bandages on his face and hands, particularly heavy on the right. He looked like a mummy trying to make a fashion statement._

"_I take it back. Staying here is probably making you _less_ healthy. Maybe you should get checked out after all."_

_Something sparked within her at that, but it was distant and muted; certainly not something that was worth examining. She turned back towards the Girl instead, vaguely hoping the boy would get the message and leave._

_So of course he slid stiffly into the chair next to her._

"_Who is she," he asked, and his voice was gentler as he looked down at the small form on the bed._

_And wasn't _that_ the question? Who was she? One of the many who suffered because of her mistakes? A victim at the hands of her…successor? (And wasn't Ginjo, if there was anything left of that once-kind boy, just as much a victim in this, too?) A daughter? A sister? An Esper?_

"_I…do not know."_

_The boy was studying her now. And she wanted to lash out. Wanted to hide. Wanted to scream at Heaven Canceller for deciding to save her. She didn't like the gentle expression in his eyes._

"_And who are you?" Her voice came out as a hoarse, unused snarl. _

_But the boy just smiled tiredly at her, letting the abrasive inquiry roll off him unheeded. Instead, he gestured towards his hospital gown. "I'm someone who belongs here – a real patient." _

_A laugh bubbled forth at that: half bitter, half amused. "And what makes you think that I am not?" She spun her hand vaguely about her head. "Maybe I'm a mental patient. One who's been here so long that the night staff has learned to simply accommodate my whims?"_

_But the boy was still staring at her gently, his eyes old and kind. It was strange, but for once Misaki felt like the young one, she who had seen too much, and yet…_

"_You're not crazy. Broken, maybe. Hurt, certainly. But not crazy." He smiled suddenly, and the expression looked strangely self-conscious. "I would know; I've met those kinds of people before." There was a pause. "Why are you here?"_

"_This is the only place I feel safe. Pathetic, isn't it? The only place in all of academy city that I feel safe is among the hurt and dying." She felt her lips twisting into a disgusted smile, tinged with self-loathing. _

_But the boy just offered up an understanding smile saying, "It _is_ Heaven Canceller's ward."_

_And somehow, impossibly, Misaki got the strangest impression that this boy, he _understood_. Finally, then the words came spilling forth, a torrent she could not stop; did not want to stop. She told him about her lies, her tricks. About _Berserker,_ about the monstrous deeds she had committed, all in the name of _science. _She told him about Ginjo, whom she had inadvertently helped to create, about every disgusting crime Ginjo had committed, crimes she could have stopped so much earlier, because how could she _not_ recognize the touch of his _Law Maker?_ She even told him about Mikoto – the kind, kind girl whom she couldn't bear to see look at her with disgust and loathing. The girl who acted as if she could be saved, as if she could _live_; the girl who had seen her basest, most monstrous self and yet had walked her all the way back to her dorm. _

_By the end of her deluge, she was breathing heavily, but she still felt lighter, somehow. She didn't know what she expected from this boy, (absolution?) but something had changed, anyway. Turning, she was stunned to realize that she felt genuine amusement at the overwhelmed expression on the boy's face. Her laughter only became more pronounced at the splash of red that was slowly covering his face._

_Smiling lightly, she finally managed, "And that is why you don't ask a girl to talk about feelings. Although," and here her features softened, "thank you for listening, all the same."_

_Finally recovered and having seen the humor in the situation, he finally asked, "You really care about her, don't you? This 'Mikoto.'"_

"_I do. I have never had many friends; my esper ability doesn't really lend itself to forming lasting relationships. But she, she never treated me as anything other than what I am; she was never afraid of me. Even when she knew nothing about me other than that I was suspicious, she just treated me like she would anyone else…"_

_The boy raised an eyebrow. "And now that she knows, you're afraid she'll want to leave you?"_

"_Well, no. Mikoto is much too kind for that. And we both know that it's difficult for me to use my power on her."_

"_Then…what's the problem?"_

_Misaki shot a glare at the boy. "She's seen me _at my worst_. Would you willingly associate with a rabid bear? Or bring your friends to 'play nice' with it?"_

_And now, the boy was actually glaring at her. "Enough with this pity party! So you've done some crappy things. Say you are responsible for those people's deaths; indirectly responsible for the torture of these girls. Whining won't do _anything_! Get off your ass and _catch_ this Ginjo. If you can't be absolved or forgive yourself for your crimes, the only way to move forward is to take responsibility for them until you _can_ forgive yourself, or until you can accept the forgiveness of others. So start by catching this bastard!"_

_The boy was still glaring at her fiercely, and she was shaking: shock, rage and agony, and relief all warring in her soul. In the end it was the relief that won out. She had something she could do. A place to finally start closing this wretched chapter in her life. And maybe the boy saw that, because the anger seemed to drain out of him, and he nodded once to himself before beginning to stiffly rise from his chair._

_He made it to the door, before he paused, to offer one parting comment. "_Berserker-san? _If I know _Biri-Biri, _and I think I do, she would never abandon you for something you did as a child, and events you had little to no control over. And even if you did have control over your actions, well, I'm afraid that _Biri-Biri _is one of those people who just sticks to you, like a fungus or something. I'm pretty certain you have a friend for life, no matter what you do, _Berserker-san."

…

Misaki jumped up, suddenly invigorated. "Come on!" She tugged on Mikoto's hand in emphasis.

Mikoto stood slowly, deliberately, more than a little put off by the whip-lash mood swing. "Come where," she asked carefully.

"To the 177th branch, of course! We have much to discuss, and much to do, and not much time to do it in."

"Aaaannd, you want to do this now? During the middle of the afternoon?"

"School can wait! But the fates of these girls, these cannot wait."

"You do realize that nobody is going to be at the branch office, yes? Not Konori-san, not Kuroko, not Saten-san, not Uiharu-san. It's the middle of the school day, so there's really no point in hurrying. Shouldn't we use this time to solidify your control over the school? I mean, that display in class was a good start and all, but it only bought us some time. (Actually, I can't believe I'm the one lecturing you in this…)"

Misaki heaved a deep, resonant sigh. "Must you be so reasonable during the only time I am actually quivering with energy?"

Mikoto smirked. "What's a friend for, if not to obstruct each other's whims and flights of fancy?"

Rolling her eyes, Misaki added, "Pranks, for one. However, I shall be a good friend, and prank you not. Nevertheless, we will need to head to the hospital after class." She started heading off the roof, as Mikoto scrambled to keep up. "There's someone I think you'd like to see…"

"Mhmm, yeah yeah."

Mikoto stopped her before she could cross the threshold, a serious glint in her eye. "Misaki. Are you alright?"

Misaki's answering smile was genuine, in a way that Mikoto realized with a start that she had missed. "I will be alright. I promise."

_I'm pretty certain you have a friend for life, no matter what you do, _Berserker-san.


End file.
